Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8714944.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F, F/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Hermione_Granger/Draco_Malfoy, Albus_Dumbledore/Gellert_Grindelwald,
      Hermione_Granger/Draco_Malfoy/Theodore_Nott, Ginny_Weasley/Blaise_Zabini,
      Luna_Lovegood/Ginny_Weasley, Lily_Evans_Potter/Severus_Snape
  Character:
      Draco_Malfoy, Hermione_Granger, Albus_Dumbledore, Severus_Snape, Harry
      Potter, Ron_Weasley, Theodore_Nott, Gellert_Grindelwald, Pansy_Parkinson,
      Blaise_Zabini, Neville_Longbottom, Minerva_McGonagall
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-12-01 Updated: 2016-12-04 Chapters: 5/? Words: 28575
****** Beautifully Unraveled ******
by AutumnLily
Summary
     The scheme hatched by Dumbledore and Snape unravels at the end of
     book six when Snape's curse fails to kill Dumbledore and instead
     ricochets upon Snape killing him instantly. Voldemort flees with
     Bellatrix to begin replotting far from Dumbledore whilst Dumbledore
     sets new plans in motion with members of the Order.
     Draco, disillusioned by the Death Eaters ideology once Voldemort
     began attacking his mother for his failure to murder Dumbledore,
     wishes to assist the resistance and pleads with Hermione to help him
     get back on track with school whilst he attempts to subtly manipulate
     her into helping him help Harry without either knowing.
     Hermione herself has a secret task to fulfill at the behest of
     Dumbledore, she has only weeks to complete her research which may
     make or break the Order's attempt at finally ending Voldemort.
     Two boys with big ideas begin meddling with magic neither are
     prepared for with disastrous consequences.
     How will all of these characters' stories intertwine and play out?
     Read to find out...
***** Chapter 1 *****
~Present Day~
Hermione had been skulking in the restricted area of the library for longer
than she had anticipated. She had research to complete, a secret mission to
fulfil, orders of Dumbledore, however, as usual, Dumbledore’s secret missions
had to be kept secret therefore she still had to adhere to the set schedule,
bedtimes, library hours and curfew. She could see Draco Malfoy watching her and
she was hoping to wait him out. He usually left with Crabbe and Goyle much
earlier than this, however although she was curious as to why those three were
in the library this late, she was not curious enough to wish to talk to them or
be jeered by them.
Draco finally picked up his book bag and placed his parchment inside, he
beckoned to Crabbe and Goyle and together the three vacated the library at a
slow and leisurely pace. Hermione let out a sigh of relief, she had been
dreading the thought that they were waiting for her – not due to fear of what
they would do as even Crabbe and Goyle weren’t stupid enough to physically
fight a girl, and whatever wit Draco could serve out Hermione could hit back
harder, faster and smarter – no, she was worried that Draco was hoping to try
and stop her from making the Gryffindor curfew that had been put in place at
the beginning of their 7th year.
The beginning of their 7th year at Hogwarts had so far been their best, and
their worst.
Dumbledore had almost died when Snape had attacked with the Avada Kedavra curse
the night the Death Eaters entered Hogwarts using Draco’s fixed Vanishing
Cabinet. Snape had meant to kill him, it had been revealed by Dumbledore at
Snape’s funeral that the man they all feared and loathed had actually been
working for the Order from the moment Voldemort went after Lil Potter.
Dumbledore had admitted Snape’s longevity and success as a spy for the Order of
the Phoenix. Dumbldore himself was perplexed at how his plan had failed,
Dumbledore was not long for this world and he and Snape had attempted this in
an effort to save Draco Malfoy from the clutches of Voldemort, end Dumbledore
before the curse became too much and too painful, and to validate Snape’s
position as second in command of the Death Eaters. Voldemort had gone into
hiding as his perceived first lieutenant had been a sheep in wolf’s clothing in
his den, and he, the most powerful Dark Wizard of the ages, could not
understand how his plan had backfired to have Dumbledore murdered by the Malfoy
child or Snape himself, nor how he had not seen Snape for what he was – a
foolish Blood Traitor who forsook his Master for a filthy Mudblood. Voldemort
was worried as both the Chosen One and Dumbledore remained together, alive,
resistant, and he had fled with Bellatrix, who, to her credit, had not once
said I told you so to her Dark Lord. New rules had been put on the students who
were allowed back to Hogwarts; many parents had once again kept their children
home for safety’s sake now that it was a known and accepted fact that the most
prolific Dark Wizard of the ages was once more roaming about and attempting to
gather up his army to overthrow the Ministry and restructure the Wizarding
World to reflect the views of the Death Eaters.
Hermione’s pondering halted as she caught sight of the time piece on the
library wall - if she was late again she would have to wake the Fat Lady who
would tell McGonagall in the morning who would then have no choice but to
remove some of Hermione’s school privileges including extra library time on
Thursday evenings – those extra library hours being the reason she was now in
the predicament she was, shoving her books into her bag as quickly as she could
manage, her ink spilling as she knocked it over with her elbow my mistake.
“Tergeo,” Came a lazy voice behind her. She turned and saw Draco Malfoy leaning
against a stack of books, his bag slung over his right shoulder, one foot
cocked on his toes. He had shaken off Crabbe and Goyle in the hallway outside
the library by claiming he had forgotten an important Potions book – as neither
of them were taking Potions this year they allowed him to retreat in solitude
and continued on their way to the dungeons.
“What do you want, Malfoy?” Hermione managed as she placed the now empty ink
well into the front pocked of her bag and clipped it shut, turning to head
towards the library exit. She began walking, bag over both shoulders pulling
her straight up like a ballerina, her chest pointing forwards and her hair
bouncing upon her shoulders. Aware that the seconds were ticking by she kept a
brisk pace and Draco had to drop his relaxed façade to keep up with the stern
brunette.
“To accompany a Mudblood to their common room counts as a chivalrous act,
right, Granger?”
“Malfoy, if you’re waiting for me in the library coming on close to curfew I’d
hazard a guess that you need something which makes this act much less
chivalrous and much more cunning… however, if all you want is to degrade me
about my blood status then squelch off, I have just read about the most amazing
spell which shrinks muscles as to make your opponent less of a physical threat…
I wonder what that spell would do to your… well…” and she raised her right
eyebrow and nodded towards Draco’s pants.
Draco flinched slightly and tried to play it off by changing sides with bag. He
eyed Hermione’s bag upon her back, it was so full that books were attempting to
push open the lid of the bag, and it had ink stains all over the front pocket.
He wondered how she managed to contain all of this information inside without
her mind fracturing from educational overload.
“Look, Granger, you know I’m ok now… you know my dad is still tied up with
Voldemort, but you and the Order now know that my mother and I are just keeping
up appearances. You know what is inside of me, and yeah, I don’t much like you
and your pretentious know-it-all bit, but you also know I’m no longer like my
dad was… is…”
“What’s your point, Malfoy?” Hermione said through gritted teeth. She was well
aware that Malfoy and his mother had both stepped into the empty shoes left by
Snape after his demise. Dumbledore had correctly guessed from conversations
with Snape in the past that Narcissa had never felt the pull towards the Death
Eaters beliefs, but had married Lucius as she had a duty to her family, and he
to his. She was also well aware, thanks to Tonk’s getting a bit loose lipped
after too many Fire Whiskey’s over the holidays that Lucius had a predilection
for the bald, powerful, tall, skinny, male type… aka Dearest Daddy Death Eater,
Voldemort. Draco had been raised in his father’s shadow, brainwashed from an
early age to believe the egocentric, narrow minded, puritanical and malicious
beliefs of the Death Eaters. Narcissa had tried her hardest to raise him to
show a façade of superiority but to offer help to those below his station.
Draco had been in conflict between his parent’s beliefs his entire life, the
result turning him into a man-child with a high opinion of himself and a sense
of entitlement but who also sought to protect and help those he cared about or
those in his charge. As his family was well protected he’d never before had to
delve into the side of him that kept him human… until Voldemort started
threatening his mother to make him more submissive in his mannerism and
compliant in his actions. Now Draco only wanted to see the downfall of the man
who held his mother by her throat, who spelled her bald to humiliate her, who
used his wand to throw her around the room, who slashed at her clothing and
caused her to show skin in front of men like Avery and Nott, and who had
shredded and healed her skin repetitively to make sure her blood was truly
pure.
Knowing that Draco and Narcissa had switched sides didn’t make Hermione feel
any more inclination to become friendly with either of them. When she saw them
at Order meetings she nodded politely to Narcissa and openly ignored her son
who somehow always found a way to sit close by or to walk slightly too close to
Hermione in the cramped halls throughout Grimmauld place. Hermione had decided,
however, that she would be as nice to him as he was to her, for the sake of the
Order. If that meant not at all that was fine.
“I was thinking.”
“A dangerous and difficult feat, I’m sure…” Hermione drawled dryly.
Shut up, Granger, and listen. As the Greatest Good is now both our intention,
that with all of my Ministry connections – some are with the good guys as
Father always kept in high graces no matter his underlying taste for
Voldemort’s victory – that having me, a bright, intelligent, charismatic and
well known young man in the Ministry of Magic after graduation could really
help the Order’s cause.”
Hermione turned to look at him and raised one eyebrow. That actually could be
extremely helpful. Voldemort was well, he was gaining momentum, the Ministry
was still in shambles however Scrimgeour was doing his best to rally the
resistance. Dumbledore was fighting with everything he had, and, as always,
Hogwarts was the safest place a person could be during a tumultuous time like
this… the Ministry wasn’t far behind in terms of safety… but there were spies
in there… with Malfoy infiltrating the Ministry as a Death Eater who actually
reported to the Order he could potentially warn Dumbledore of the identities of
the plants Voldemort had placed. There were the obvious handful, but everyone
knew there were a few unobvious ones, and, most likely, a few imperiused. Draco
would be able to find out thanks to that moving tattoo on his forearm.
“Malfoy, you need to mention this to Dumbledore at the next meeting, not to me
at 10.51 on a Thursday evening in a dark corridor. Goodnight.” Hermione turned
to begin her incline towards Gryffindor tower.
“Wait!” Draco’s harassed whisper assaulted her ears in the near silence.
Hermione stopped, three steps above Draco, facing the incline and sighed
waiting for him to finish. She looked over her shoulder at him and raised her
right eyebrow.
“I need your help, Granger. My dad is still attempting to force me into Death
Eater meetings, my concentration has been in tatters since I spent last year
not thinking about classes but about that damned cabinet, and, as I am keeping
up appearances for the sake of the Order, I am having to spend an awful lot of
time in the Slytherin Common Room bragging about the fact that my aunt is the
one Voldemort ran off with and pretending to feign interests in the Slytherin
slags who all think this tattoo is their ticket to a Golden Life as the Madam
of Malfoy Manor… I, I’m falling behind in my classes and I…” Malfoy looked
away, his pointed face turned towards the floor as he readied himself for his
confession, “I need you to help me catch up.”
Hermione hadn’t turned yet, body still facing the staircase. She smiled over
her shoulder at him when she heard that he no longer cared for the likes of
Parkinson and the others. She knew he was slimy but she was still a young
woman, full of chemicals and he was still a young man full of testosterone, and
pheromones that sometimes she thought she could smell when he sat close to her
at the Order meetings, or when he pressed passed her in the close corridors
squishing her between his chest and the wall, when making their way back to the
fireplace to floo back to the room of requirement. He was good looking, there
was no question about it, but she had never considered him as someone worthy of
looking as good as he did. She knew the only reason she cared was puberty and
so the thought of looking at him like that never made her feel guilty.
And if he truly did want to learn, she was the brightest witch in their class –
he would never accept tutoring or guidance from anyone less than the best…
although in the Slytherin handbook Mudblood comes just above Blast Ended
Skrewt… or the other way around.
She turned, the moonlight streaming in and illuminating her face, focused,
waiting, her hair across her left shoulder, bag still holding her straight. Her
lips were full and the light made them seem purple, a contrast to her glowing
cheeks and neck, and the whites of her wide eyes, and Draco almost thought he
saw her cheeks rushing with blood as he took in the curve of her silhouette
against the window. Her body turned into itself, unsure how to respond to such
a blatant stare of desire, as although she knew she wanted to be looked at like
that she was unprepared as the desire was emanating off of Draco Malfoy.
Hermione’s mind was racing.
“Where do you propose these sessions take place, Malfoy? We are still enemies
on the surface.”
“Room of requirement. I’ve been going there for weeks to attempt to study in
solitude. There is all we need, desks, cushions, shelves, the class books and
the perfect lighting for reading. The carpets are as plush as my study at home,
and everything is forest green – although no doubt when a Gryffindor enters
some of the cushions will turn crimson.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow night, during the Quidditch match. Your golden boys are playing, so
are Crabbe and Goyle. No one will miss us in the crowds. No one will see us on
the 7th floor.”
Hermione processed this and nodded. It was logical, it was safe and he was
right.
“Ok Malfoy. I’ll help you. However, you owe me.”
“What could a high and mighty Gryffindor desire from a lowly defected Death
Eater, ask Merlin?”
“If my assistance turns your grades around and you do infiltrate the Ministry…
I’ll call on my favour then.”
Malfoy looked at her. She was shrewd. He sometimes wondered if she had of been
born into the right type of family with magical parents if her brains and
cunning thought process would have made her eligible for Slytherin. He knew she
was not opposed to breaking rules she deemed intrusive or obstructive to
achieve her goals. She was bright – exceptionally so. He had come second to her
in their schooling every year but their 6th year when he had come 12th in their
years overall marks as his mind had been elsewhere. He was unsure what sort of
favour she would require but he was a MALFOY after all and if there were three
things a Malfoy held true to it was their ability to pay their debts, their
ability to acknowledge those who had helped them, and the acquisition of the
finest things in life.
He stepped towards her and cupped her face in his left hand bringing her eyes
up to look into his. “Why not just ask for Galleons, Granger? I can pay you
more in one year than a Ministry career can offer you in a lifetime. That way
after our sessions you needn’t seek me out…”
He was certain, this time. Blood was reddening her cheeks, her lips were
darkening and her eyes were not wavering from his. Her body was responding to
his proximity and he could feel the electricity between them.
“The price for my tutelage is a favour Malfoy - and if you touch me again it
will turn into three. I’ll see you tomorrow evening. Goodnight.” With that
Hermione turned and began her dash up to Gryffindor tower. She made it just as
the Fat Lady’s eyes were beginning to flutter.
“One more minute and I’d have been sleeping, young lady. You know we Dormitory
guardians have been spelled to reflect the curfew… Quick, quick, password.” She
yawned as she slid forward for Hermione who hadn’t yet said the password.
“Valour” whispered Hermione as she stepped foot inside the common room. She
smiled to herself. Harry and Ron were in front of the fire playing Wizards
Chess. Ron was triumphing by his expression and whoops. Ginny was asleep in a
chintz chair under a window, Hedwig nuzzled into her shoulder sitting on the
arm chair, Crookshanks curled up on her lap. Hermione walked passed Harry and
Ron waving silently and pointing upstairs and at herself to indicate she was
heading to bed as she gently shook Ginny and led her upstairs to the girl’s
dorms.
Ron stood and attempted to help Hermione hold his sister up but Hermione
pointed at the girls stairway which, if he put a foot on it, would turn into a
slide and make it near impossible for Hermione to take Ginny to bed or to fall
into her own warm, cosy sanctuary.
Harry waved and mouthed ‘Good night’ as he and Ron began placing the Chess
pieces back in Ron’s uncle’s box. Hermione heard Harry yawning as she closed
the girls entrance door behind her.
***
Draco made it back into the Slytherin common room just before the dungeon door
became armed. These new curfews were a waste. He was aware that Voldemort was
nowhere near the school, nowhere near Diagon Alley, far from the United
Kingdom. Voldemort and Bellatrix were in Tasmania, they were making plans with
the Antarctic vampires. Dumbledore knew this; the curfew was in place for the
sake of the other children’s parents whom had no idea where Voldemort was, but
whom knew he was still active somewhere, they were demanding stricter measures
be put in place hence these blasted restrictions.
Draco was very fortunate that decades ago his family had paid to have a private
Malfoy bedroom spelled in place for Draco’s great-great-grandfather when he
attended Hogwarts. It was not as big as Draco’s room at home, however it was
just as lush and comfortable. He collapsed onto his bed and, lying on his back,
legs spread just so, staring at the ceiling, divested himself of his day’s
attire. He used his nonverbal magic to scourgify his body and then pointed his
wand at the candle’s hovering near the door. The room went pitch black and he
found himself smiling in the dark.
Her body was impressive. She was taller than her posture gave on. Her body was
fuller than he had anticipated. It really was too bad she was from filthy stock
as they would be spending a lot of time together, alone, in secret. He loved
having secrets and he loved wide hips and brown hair. Her eyes were the colour
of her blood – muddy – but her skin was alabaster under moonlight and in the
dark of the night hidden from judging eyes and pressuring family members… he
could almost pretend she was pure.
Draco’s hands slithered south as his exhaustion took him under, and, without
consciously realising, he began touching himself to the lucid dream images of
Hermione playing out in his mind.
***
~ Godric’s Hollow, Many years earlier ~
“Alby, we simply cannot allow them to roam free, you must come to terms with
the fact that although we have similar forms we are not like them – if we were
there would be no muggles, no squibs. It is, of course, no fault of their own,
however they do pose a threat as their kind prefers to perform acts of war with
primal violence and as advanced as we are with our unique abilities they
greatly outnumber us.” Gellert Grindelwald eyed Albus Dumbledore curiously as
he presented his argument. He was aware that his argument had holes and that if
Albus wished he would find them and tear the entire argument to shreds, Albus
was smart and shrewd, however he was also cunning and he knew what had to be
done so that both boys would be able to live free lives.
“And what do you propose we do with the muggles, Gellert?” laughed Albus,
“Create a muggle attraction park, a zootopia of sorts?” Albus’s eyes hardened.
“Or do you simply wish to begin a cull, Gellert?”
“The muggles will be allowed to live however we will create safe spaces for
them, we will create utopic environments in specific parts of the world and
spell the rest of the world to prevent muggle access and place them together
where they may live out their days amongst themselves. This solves numerous
problems with a single move; we will no longer need live in fear of being found
out and persecuted as we did in the days of old; we will no longer need to
worry about the pure lines of magic becoming polluted – ahem – diluted by
magic-muggle marriages and breeding; we will be able to perform magic out in
the open; we will no longer need to worry about obliviating or international
statutes of secrecy, nor border control on dangerous beasts or imported magical
equipment; and, most importantly, Alby, Ariana will be free. You will be free.
You will be able to begin whichever career you feel yourself most drawn to, you
and I will be renowned for having created the perfect magical world, we will
live like Kings and your sister will be treated like a Princess – we will hire
the best healers, the most comforting nanny, the most sought after chefs and
Ariana need never live another second in the shadows. She will be safe again,
Alby. We will all be safe.”
Albus’s eyes clouded over as the actions of the muggle boys came back to him…
Gellert was finally making sense. A world in which Ariana would be safe and
Albus would be free. It was almost too much to imagine, too implausible, an
impossible feat… yet Gellert and Albus were higher than average, both had a
world of opportunity at their feet… Gellert’s plan could be accomplished in a
manner of years if they both took up their offered positions within the
ministry, they would excel, they would receive accolades, and they could begin
gathering the right people to put into play when the time for the move was
right.
“And you claim all we need are these Hallows?”
Gellert reached forward and placed his hand upon his friends, his body leaned
inwards closing the distance between the two and Albus could feel the warmth
emanating off of Gellerts face as he reddened with excitement.
“Yes, Albus. All we need are the three Deathly Hallows.”
***** And so it is... *****
Chapter 2
~ Present Day ~
Hermione awoke startled early on the Friday morning of her first tutoring
session with Draco. She had not slept well, she’d tossed and turned all night
and when she woke she could still feel his fingers on her chin. She felt as
though Draco touching her should have made her feel dirty, or tainted, when in
actuality it had the opposite effect, she had felt alive and elated at the cool
warmth radiating from his fingertips… she found herself lying in bed
reminiscing on the night before, Malfoy’s eyes, sweeping up her from toes to
tip, his skin softer than any silk she’d ever worn, his breath a fresh mixture
of spearmint and liquorice, his sweat the scent of frankincense, lavender and
freshly cut grass. His entire being had penetrated each of her senses
overwhelming her until the only thing she could think of doing was saying yes,
yes, yes, Malfoy, yes, I will help you so that I may sit with you in secret and
sniff your movements and relish in your gaze…
Hermione was not a complete novice in the way of love or arousal. She had
kissed a handful of boys. Viktor, twice, once at the Yule Ball, and once just
before he entered the maze. Their first kiss has sent her stomach plummeting to
the ground, it was pleasant but not what romance novels had taught her to
expect. Not one to give up easily she had attempted again, she had willed
herself to feel something more, the fear and excitement of the maze was sending
adrenaline through her yet when their lips touched for the second time she felt
cool and calm – the opposite that a woman should feel at the hands of their
lover.
Hermione had kissed Ron, more than twice. At first it had been exciting,
however it had dwindled quickly. He was definitely one of her best friends, but
she and he had decided that is all it was and had come to the conclusion their
friendship was not worth potentially destroying for the sake of a short lived
fling. She had seen him eyeing her on and off for weeks after they decided not
to peruse their fledgling romance and she was both relieved and pleased when
Lavender came back on the scene to “soothe Ron” after his “heartbreak at the
hands on Hermione.”
Seamus, as a dare, her very first dare the first night back at Hogwarts in
their 7th year… Romilda had suggested the 6th and 7th years play spin the
bottle… Hermione had allowed herself to be goaded into participating when she
saw Romilda spell the bottle so that her spins would only land on Harry…
Hermione knew Harry and Ginny were still together and had been curious as to
whether Harry would play. He hadn’t. Hermione, however, had kissed Seamus, and
Ron had kissed Lavender and Neville had kissed Romilda who had not realised her
spell hadn’t prevented other spinners landing on her. Neville had taken to
cutting flowers from the edge of the forest and leaving them near Romilda, but
had so far not bolstered his courage to ask her to accompany him on a Hogsmeade
trip. Hermione adored Neville and believed he deserved better, however if
Romilda was what his heart wanted then she promised herself, and Neville, that
she would support him.
Hermione had even kissed Harry one evening, but no one needed to know about
that, and what a mistake that had been! They hadn’t been able to look each
other in the face for almost a fortnight, Harry throwing himself into his
Quidditch captaincy, and Hermione attempting to cleanse herself of the memory
by purchasing vials for memories to be kept in and one day viewed in the
pensive and had begun practising memory charms. Neither of them had ever
mentioned that moment in one of the Slug Club parties where Fire Whiskey had
been liberally poured and, each fuelled with alcohol, high spirits at end of
term and Dumbledore’s defeat of Voldemort’s plan, leaned into hug each other
and face planted into a sloppy smooch. It had been disgusting in all honesty,
Hermione had no brothers but imagined this was what it would be like to kiss
one. Both pulled back almost immediately, Hermione blushing fierce crimson and
Harry leaning forwards to burp over her shoulder as she held him up. They had
walked back to the Gryffindor common room in silence and had been happy to see
their separate doorways leading to each dormitory so they could fall asleep and
pretend to not remember the 2 seconds of mouth slime and teeth banging.
Fred… that had been the closest thing Hermione had felt to true … something… it
had started as laugh, it always did with Fred. Hermione had been at the Burrow,
sitting outside alone under the stars, the moon was a mere finger nail and the
gnomes were parading around in the dark mumbling loudly and grumpily at each
other as it was gnome breeding season and the Burrow only had a handful of
females for the entire male population. The females had already chosen their
mates and were now quietly situated in their holes growing gnome babies in
their bellies whilst their men patrolled and protected their nests getting into
fights with the disgruntled males who had missed out on a partner. Fred had
come outside to get away from his mother who had started on him due to his hair
length. Both Charlie and Bill had had long hair, Fred had thought it made them
seem distinguished. He had alluded to the fact that growing his hair would
allow others to tell him and George apart at which point George had pointed his
wand at his own head and magically grew his hair to match Fred’s. Fred had
laughed, but secretly had wanted that small moment of individuality.
Fred had loped down to where Hermione was sitting and collapsed onto the grass
next to her. His hair had been magically re cut to reflect his normal style,
and his smile was just as wide as usual but his eyes were nowhere as genuine.
Hermione had noticed but not pointed it out. Fred and Hermione had always been
able to talk easily, she respected his business acumen and he respected her
intelligence and curiosity towards the types of magic he could perform which
had nothing to do with academia. As they sat side by side Hermione had felt a
pull in her stomach. She turned to see Fred staring intently at her. He made a
face and poked his tongue out and she giggled. He then leaned in, wrapped his
arm around her and gently folded them both backwards towards the earth so that
she was held comfortably in his embrace and he was positioned just hovering
over her, their chests so close yet not touching. Fred lowered his face to her,
she raised her own assuming their lips would meet, instead Fred had turned and
dipped his nose to her neck, inhaling deeply.
“Hermione, you always smell like frankincense. I don’t know how you do it, is
it magic? Or is it you?” Her heart had fluttered – she had never been
complimented on something so primal before. Every other boy attempting to woo
her had complimented her mind. There was no need here, she knew Fred respected
her brains, and was equally thrilled that her scent was just as enthralling.
She nuzzled her own nose and felt her nostrils flare as she took in his sweaty,
musky yet sweet fragrance. Fred was a wooden fire, a cup of tea, wet grass and
something more… salty… which she had never before smelled but which she was not
opposed to.
He had moved his entire body upon hers, his chest against her breasts, her
nipples at attention poking through her thin pyjama top. Fred’s hips pushed
down slightly, applying the lightest of pressure to her nether regions and then
he kissed her, deeply, his lips parting her own, his tongue invading her mouth,
she could still taste the pumpkin juice, the berry tart and whipped cream from
dessert upon his tongue. Hermione responded, her arms encircling his neck, her
hips pushing up against his to match the slow yet steady rhythm. Fred’s hands
wandered, they slipped down her neck, tracing her shape as he descended towards
her pyjama bottoms. His fingers slid into the waist line and he gently caressed
her skin through her thin cotton panties. Hermione moaned into his ear and
grabbed a handful of Fred’s hair – and Fred moaned right back into her mouth,
his breath becoming shallow as his hips began to increase their rhythm against
her clothes. Hermione could feel him lengthening, and she smelt the saltiness
again, this time acknowledging that it was his arousal seeping through his
boxer shorts. She whispered his name, she wanted him to know she was right
there with him, perhaps wanted him to hear her as he pushed against her, maybe
it was so she could re-enter reality at the sound of her voice… hearing his
name pushed Fred over the edge and Hermione felt him spasm, his arms tightening
around her, his hips digging in to her, forcing her into the earth with his
need to simply become one with her body. He thrust twice more, Hermione was
positive his hip bones would leave bruises, but she was looking forward to
seeing the marking tomorrow, looking forward to being reminded of her mini
adventure. Fred’s fingers entwined her hair and he pulled her head back and
inhaled her neck once more before spilling his seed inside his shorts, the
moisture creeping through onto Hermione’s pyjama bottoms, her mouth wide at the
thought that her body had just given a man true pleasure…
He held her for a while before using his wand to clean them both non-verbally.
She felt the stickiness disappear, and suddenly the sore spots on her hips were
also gone. She was slightly disappointed but knew it was the right thing – she
shared a room with Ginny who would notice blue circles upon her hips and who
would, undoubtedly, question the presence of said marks when Hermione was in a
home shared only with Ginny’s brothers and Ginny’s boyfriend. Fred had given
Hermione sly smirks and proceeded to corner her for the rest of their vacation,
however as much as Hermione had enjoyed their escapades she had never found the
release he did, nor had she ever given him herself in entirety.
Hermione lay in her bed for longer than was her usual pattern. On a day like
today, sun streaming in the window, a free slot followed by break, then double
Potions, she would have normally been up as the sun rose, dressed by the time
the other girls were surfacing, and eating so she could spend 3 hours in the
library before making her way down to the dungeons to Professor Slughorn.
Potions classes were a disaster last year what with Harry finding that stupid
old book of Snape’s. He had since handed it to Dumbledore as they were unsure
if Snape had created other spells which may be of benefit to the Order, and,
without his trusted guide and mentor, Harry was now, finally, back to being
average in Potions. Slughorn looked into his cauldron with a hopeful eye each
class and turned with disappointment, but never enough to throw the Chosen One
from the Slug Club, oh no, Slughorn knew a connection when he had one so he
continued to blame Harry’s performance on love sickness and claimed that in
time his mother’s genes would once more illuminate the potion within the
cauldron!
Hermione sighed as she heard Lavender whispering accio nightgown to make her
dressing gown float from the wall hanger to her bed. If Lavender was awake that
meant it was definitely time to get up.
***
Draco was also awake, his bed was still warm, pillows enchanted to never lose
their fluff, and a House elf had placed his daily cup of lightly sweetened
coffee upon his night stand. Draco sat up shaking his head as he did so. He
really needed that coffee today. Granger was going to work him like a mule
horse, but, if he wanted his plan to succeed, he would have to work as hard as
she pushed. Draco hadn’t been exactly lying when he had told her his reasons…
he had simply used his Slytherin trait of omission when it came to certain
details and although he knew that in a Gryffindor’s eyes omitting facts is the
same as lying it wasn’t in Draco’s mind. Everything he had said had been
truthful; he really did want to work in the ministry to offer the Order as much
information as he could gather. He truly did wish to find out the identities of
the Imperiused and the eager spies. He truly did wish to gain professional
momentum and make his way high up the pecking order. His main reason was his
mother. Narcissa had not been the same since she had defected. Draco understood
why –coming from the family she did, having seen how her sister Andromeda had
been treated, knowing the torture that her sister Bellatrix so thoroughly
enjoyed enacting upon those who betrayed her Dark Master, Narcissa had been
almost a sickly green every time Draco had seen her at a Death Eaters meeting.
He was a good son, he had been covering up her ghostly pallor with a charm
Parkinson had used once in the common room after drinking too much Fire whiskey
and going green right before a Halloween Feast – she had vomited and then
looked in the mirror, waved her wand around her face in an anticlockwise
fashion twice and muttered fassial aestheticka restoro, a trick Draco knew
would one day come in handy. The Dark Lord was no longer attending the meetings
in person as he was south with Bellatrix, yet he would send his Basilisk
Patronus in lieu of his real self and in many aspects this was worse. When
Voldemort himself was there he would not enter until all were seated, would not
leave his seat, and would be the first to rise and leave. His patronus,
however, would slink around the table, its silver tongue darting out as it
sniffed each member of the meeting, winding up and down legs without touching,
but giving off an eerie impression of being haunted by a badly behaved pet
snake. On occasions when a member reported something that displeased Voldemort
the snake would attempt to sink its translucent fangs into their necks, and it
would sometimes simply lie spread from one end of the table to the other, a
huge feat as the table was easily 15 feet in length. Draco shuddered as he
remembered one evening when the snake had attempted to decapitate his mother
after she relayed that there was nothing to report on the Order.
Draco wanted to protect what little family he had left. His father was a lost
cause, even if Voldemort fell Lucius would still be the coward he is now,
bending his knee for the biggest bully in the playground. Bellatrix had
murdered the last of the Black’s years ago, Tonks was not very familial,
Andromeda was Merlin only knew where these days, and the only other person whom
looked at Draco like he was worth a damn was Dumbledore and that was simply
because Draco was being groomed to take over Snape’s position as turn cloak.
Voldemort thought Draco was purely on the purebloods side, faking a slight
interest in school and pupils to offer information from Hogwarts and stay in
the good books of the Order in case they let something slip… Dumbledore thought
Draco was purely on the side of good only reporting to Voldemort what
Dumbledore entrusted him to do so. Draco was working only for himself. And his
mother. It was a bloody difficult task, and yes, he had been falling behind in
one or two classes, but the real reason he had asked Granger for help, not
simply as she was the brightest in their year, but as he knew she was as
curious about spells kept off the school education list as he was, and together
they may be able to truly learn something of value if given the chance. He knew
it would take time, goading, perhaps manipulation, possibly bribes, and
probably blackmail – but there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his mother. Not
anymore. He had realised this weeks ago and had spent every spare moment
devising his plan. Draco was going to eliminate Voldemort… but to do this he
would have to help Potter without helping Potter and the only way to help
Potter without him knowing it was Draco’s assistance would be by using Potter’s
mudblood. So Draco planned on doing just that. He was aware that if he had come
right out and said “I want to help Potter kill Voldemort” that she would have
been suspicious. Although he was working for the Order now his past still
counted against him, but he needed his mother safe. She was his only family,
the only person to have ever truly loved him, the only one wearing the Dark
Mark who actually had a heart and gave a damn and could potentially be saved
after this was over… Draco didn’t care who he had to help or whom he had to
kill. This was war.
***
Hermione entered the great hall for breakfast mere minutes after Draco did. As
she had to come from the topmost tower, and he from the dungeons, he was
closer. As she walked past his position at head of Slytherin table he caught
her eye and cocked his head upwards indicating to the 7th floor. She nodded and
continued on her way towards Gryffindor table where it was fairly empty. Harry,
Ron, Ginny, and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team were undoubtedly
practising before the match tonight. Hermione sighed and sat down, once again
alone. She was used to her solitude however it didn’t mean she always welcomed
it. Sometimes she liked having people around her to share with, to talk to, to
listen to, to offer advice to. She smirked. She wondered how well Draco would
handle being advised on his educational performance by her, a mudblood. A
slight cramp in her stomach reminded Hermione that she really did need to eat,
so she gathered two pieces of buttered toast, a chalice of pumpkin juice,
another of unsweetened milky tea, and proceeded to nibble until there were only
crumbs in front of her. The cramp in her stomach dissipated and she felt
confident that her body was ready for classes. She hoped Ron and Harry wouldn’t
be late, Slughorn was jovial but detested tardiness.
When Hermione reached the dungeons she rolled her eyes when she saw the only
person standing in front of the door to Slughorns room was Draco. His right
foot was propped up underneath him, bag at his feet, a falsely deceptive
charismatic smile upon his lips.
“All alone, are we Granger?” he mused looking around sarcastically checking for
others. He pushed off the wall and walked towards her, not touching her but
close enough to make her step back, back against the cold stone passageway. He
put his arms up and placed his palms flat against the wall on either side of
her creating a barrier with his body. She looked up at him with a cocked
eyebrow and her lips twisted to show her disgust.
“What are you doing, Malfoy?”
“Thought it might be a nice gift from me to you to show you what it feels like
to have a real man in front of you, looking down into your muddy eyes,
emanating wealth and status, power and grandeur… admit it, Granger, none of
those blundering brawny boys in your tower do anything for you, do they?” He
wiggled his eyes suggestively, simply wanting to put her into disease so that
he was in control later that evening.
Hermione was watching Draco’s face. She could tell it was false bravado and had
a few ideas why he was putting on this show. Her body relaxed. She dropped her
book bag on his feet, causing him to kick it away from them with a sore toe,
and then raised her arms above her head.
She turned her head down so hair fell across her eyes, then looked back up at
him through her locks, batting her lashes.
“Malfoy… you’re right,” she said breathlessly. “None of the Gryffindors have
the brains I require in a … play mate…” she giggled, unsure if she had giggled
enticingly or simply made herself look the fool, but she persevered regardless.
“The Ravenclaw boys don’t have the cunning I need… and Huflepuff, let’s just
say they believe in free love and I don’t particularly like sharing…” She
reached down and stroked his cheek admiring the blush she had brought out in
his pale complexion.
“Fuck, Granger, hands off. Don’t stain me.” He stepped back immediately, his
face flustered and his smirk replaced by confusion. He opened his mouth but at
that moment Slughorn bustled by and beckoned them both to follow.
“Children, children, come now. It seems that there was a bit of an incident on
the Quidditch pitch this morning between Gryffindor and Slytherin, your
Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff classmates were watching and are now assisting taking
the team members to the hospital wing so today’s class will be just the three
of us!” Slughorn clapped looking delighted. “I have been wanting to show my 7th
years a new potion but, well, not all of you have yet mastered the 7th year
basics, with the two of you, the Ravenclaw girl and the Hufflepuff boy being
the only truly adept participants… well, until Harry tires of his obsession
with the little Weasley that is… So! Having said that, today the three of us
will be working on a potion which allows one to drink it and feel numb to the
effects of the Cruciatus curse for one month after ingestion! Yes, yes, an
excellent potion, an extremely rare recipe, handed to Dumbledore from the
creator himself before he passed on a few years ago, Nikolia Flamell, Nicholas
Flamer, along those lines…? Yes, many years ago, but we’ve only just been able
to find the last of the necessary ingredients, the Golden Fleece, yes,
obviously this will be tricky…” Slughorn continued muttering to himself as he
waved his wand at the blackboard and then at the ingredients cupboard.
“And the two of you will be required to come back to check on it three nights
prior to, the night of, and three nights after the next Full Moon. I think that
is everything. You may begin! I will be grading papers if you require my
attention call out.”
Draco’s head snapped up. To numb himself of the effects of the cruciatus curse
would be life changing. Then the only threats Voldemort would hold over him
would be his and his mother’s life rather than immeasurable physical and
psychological agony. He supposed the Dark Lord would also threaten his father
but Draco had long since decided to do away with Lucius if he could at any
given point so perhaps Voldemort could do him an unintentional favour. He could
even… well, if he chose to, he could even brew it up and give it to the less
annoying Order members… He looked sideways at Granger. She was smiling as she
was taking down the recipe word by word, he could tell she was thinking the
same thing. She beckoned Draco closer.
“Seeing as you’ve asked for my help, I figured if we do this together it will
give us a better chance of creating one perfect batch rather than attempting
two slightly less than perfect batches… we need precision, we need timing, we
need….” And she was rattling off a list of ingredients. Draco scribbled them
down and sighed as he knew she expected him to do the heavy lifting. He went
into the storage cupboards muttering under his breath as he searched for
gillyweed, valerian, heart of mandragora, cutting precisely two square inches
from the Golden Fleece with his wand, and finally locating crushed fairy wings
and unicorn horn up the back. As he was leaving Draco saw a box marked
“antidote” and looked inside to see shrivelled misshapen rock like objects.
Something Snape had said many years back triggered in Draco’s mind and he
pocketed three of them before he could second guess himself.
“No! Draco, it needs to be stirred as thus!” Hermione was becoming distraught
at the idea that they may somehow screw this potion up, it was too important
and although she wanted Draco to help so he could learn, she also didn’t trust
his capabilities and so kept taking over.
“Granger, do you want to fucking do this yourself?”
“Well, Malfoy, as you identified, retrieved and prepped the ingredients,
technically we have so far done about half and half of the work so be quiet and
let me concentrate on getting this part right.”
She leaned forwards to continue her excruciatingly slow stirring, thrice clock
wise, twice anticlockwise, taking precisely 10 seconds to complete a round in
the cauldron for each stir.
Draco was becoming restless. Potions was not his favourite now that Snape was
gone, and he could think of a dozen things he’d rather be doing… his mind
wandered to the common room where the Greengrass sisters would undoubtedly be
sitting, giggling, flicking their golden hair, potentially Parkinson had had an
early morning drink and was coercing Zabini into playing strip poker again,
Draco could be talking to the two lovely-to-look-at sisters, he could be
goading Zabini along with Parkinson, he could be alone on the Quidditch pitch,
he could be in his room writing – no. He couldn’t of any of that. He had
responsibilities to both the Death Eaters and the Order, his free time was no
longer his. He sighed as he remembered what he was doing and looked back over
at Granger now leaning forwards to sprinkle unicorn horn dust into the perfect
lilac coloured potion… forwards, her hair escaping her pony tail…
“Oh, fuck!” Draco whispered vacating his seat immediately. He grabbed Granger
by the waist and pulled her back so suddenly that they both fell, him onto his
back, she sitting upon his lap facing forwards, her hair spilling onto his face
and into mouth.
“What, in the name of Merlin’s saggy left testicle, did you just do, Malfoy!”
She hissed so Slughorn wouldn’t hear, borrowing one of Ron’s favourite
expletives. “Look at the horrendous waste of unicorn’s horn!” She waved her
wand and it all flew back into the mortar.
“Yeah, I’m the one who fucked that up, Granger” Draco spat sarcastically.
“Watch your feral mane, it was coming loose and about to touch the potion. A
bit of a bump and some spillage is worth saving that potion, I would have
thought, anyway…” He stared at her until she turned pink.
“Well, I, it just, you know you can’t –"
“Yeah, you’re welcome!” Draco said before leaning forward to sprinkle the
unicorn horn into the perfect potion while Hermione retied her hair, this time
in a tight braid. It showed off her features much more than a loose ponytail,
or leaving it down did. Draco watched as she gathered the last of the
ingredients they needed for that morning. As she dropped in the essence of
valerian Draco couldn’t help but think back to on the floor, underneath her.
She had wiggled, and he, as a man, had felt his body responding. When his arms
had been around her he couldn’t help but notice that her body was both firm yet
pliable. He knew she didn’t play any sports preferring to spend time studying,
so he hadn’t expected to feel the muscles moving under his grip, nor the
strength that she used to propel herself off of him. He watched her bend
forward to retrieve a small notebook from her backpack and noticed how round
her behind was. It was a real arse. Not like the flat ended Parkinson or the
magicked plush ones of the Greengrass sisters whose mother, a model, had taught
them to use body modification spells at an early age. It was nicer than the
Ravenclaw Quidditch players firm behind… this was the arse of a woman.
Draco wanted to reach out and touch her, to see how it felt, just for
comparison, not because he wanted her, just to see how it felt, if he could
squeeze it, bite it, slap it, mount it…
“Malfoy? Are you ok? Did I hurt you when we fell?” Granger had turned and was
looking at him, his hands were outstretched in mid-air grasping nothing, his
face curious and eyes wide.
“I’m fine, Granger, this looks to be ready to stew until three nights before
the Full Moon. Let’s just get it in the cooler cupboard to sit and get back
upstairs.”
Hermione nodded and watched as he used his wand to levitate the cauldron
towards the cooler cupboard next to Slughorn’s desk while she cleared their
table and packed her bag. She slipped a small notebook into the front pocket of
Malfoy’s backpack and then left the room seeing no need to wait for him as,
after all, they weren’t friends.
***
Hermione met Harry and Ron on their way into the Gryffindor common room shortly
after leaving the dungeons. Ginny was fawning over Harry’s already cleared up
bruises and Lavender was attempting to kiss Ron’s already mended ribs. The
display of affection was sickening to Hermione. They had both been healed
almost immediately and neither were showing any symptoms of pain or concussion.
Harry told her that the match was still to take place and he was so excited for
her to come and watch as after the brawl this morning both Gryffindor and
Slytherin were out for blood.
Hermione smiled and nodded as her friends chatted away near her, she attempted
to respond however the slightly curious eyes of Ginny told Hermione she was not
putting on a convincing display. After the second scrutinising stare Hermione
decided to leave a red herring and dismantle the mystery that she could feel
growing in Ginny’s mind – a mystery she would surely share with Harry if
Hermione were to leave the table at that moment like shed been considering.
“I’m glad the match will go ahead, however unfortunately I won’t be able to
come along and watch. As everyone except Malfoy and I were in the hospital wing
this morning Slughorn paired us up and has given us strict instructions on the
successful creation and completion of an extremely important potion which will
benefit the Order against the Death Eaters. I will be continuing with my potion
preparation and maintenance this evening and most likely every second or third
evening until it is ready.”
Ginny looked up, “Ohhh, I was wondering why your mind seemed preoccupied –no
wonder, you’re mentally preparing yourself to spend evenings with Malfoy.
Yelch!
Harry turned to Hermione. “Hermione, he is dangerous. Do you want me, or Ron,
or –“
Hermione interrupted his suggestion before it had left his lips. “Harry, you
know very well that Malfoy is,” She looked around to make sure they couldn’t be
overheard, “Now part of the Order. You know his dangerous side is now aimed
towards Voldemort. He wishes for this potion to be made as much as I do – the
potion will prevent the drinker from feeling the effects of the cruiciatus
curse for up to a month. I could see it in his face, Harry, this potion will
protect him and his mother in case… in case…” She stopped. She didn’t know why
but the thought of Draco being tortured was suddenly a very disturbing image.
Her stomach churned and her chest constricted.
“In case he’s caught…” Harry finished. He was nodding and looking into
Hermione’s face without seeing her. “Ok, yeah, I can understand that. You
really believe he wants it enough to not mess with you, and to just let you get
on with it?”
“He’s not Hermione, but he’s fairly decent in classes I hear. He can probably
really help her with the potion, and if this could help his mother why would he
sabotage it?” Interjected Ginny.
“She’s right, Harry, Draco isn’t inept. He’s actually the second best in our
potion class.” Hermione added.
“And we’re sitting with number one!” Harry patted her hand before leaning back
in his chair. “I still wish you could come and see the game.” His eyes drifted
towards the window and Hermione knew she had placated him and put Ginny off her
scent – for the time being.
“If there is time I’ll come down and watch you catch the snitch!”
“Don’t lead me on, Hermione, or I’ll keep feinting till I see your bushy head
in the red stands!”
Ginny and Hermione laughed, Ginny punched Harry lightly on the shoulder. “Don’t
you dare, Potter! We want this cup!”
Feeling slightly more at ease Hermione said her goodbyes and went upstairs to
her dormitory. She lay down flat on her bed and took out a small notebook from
her backpack. She pointed her wand at the drapes hanging around her bed and in
a moment they had slid shut and had magically locked so no one aside from
herself could enter or exit.
She placed the tip of her wand on the cover of her notebook and then took out
her quill.
“Draco. My friends know that you and I are working on the Slughorn potion
project together. It was the only way to stop them from spying on me when I
come to meet you. We won’t be able to schedule every meeting at the same time
as Quidditch and they would have cottoned on eventually. I shall see you in the
7th floor corridor this evening. H.”
She stared impatiently at her notebook. She had placed a spell on both
notebooks so that whatever she wrote in hers would show up in his and vice
versa. She had protected them with an incognito spell rendering the words
invisible to anyone but the two of them. By touching her wand tip to the cover
she had made Draco’s vibrate; he should have noticed his bag twitching and
found it by now.
Hermione began playing with her hair as she waited. She felt nervous, like his
reply actually mattered to her. She scoffed at herself. Just because Draco was
now on their team didn’t make him any less… Draco… his heart still beat with
Malfoy blood – although there was Black blood in there too, and Tonks wasn’t
bad, and her parents were both lovely. Sirius hadn’t been bad, in fact he had
fought the Death Eaters to his death. Regulus had found his way back from the
edge of evil and had been the first to understand what Voldemort had done and
the first to attempt to destroy his immortality. Even Narcissa had defected
from Voldemorts ranks. Perhaps what she was feeling was sympathy? Draco had
been born into a position and he had been taught from birth that the way of the
Death Eaters was the only way. Perhaps, if his heart could truly turn, if he
could understand his past errors, if he could really help the Order… perhaps
Draco Malfoy would be … and she could be…
The notebook in her hands vibrated and Hermione levitated off the bed in
fright. Her mind had been downstairs in the dungeon passageway, Draco’s body
close to hers, his arms on either side of her, her fingers against his cheek,
the flush on his face, the warmth of his breath and the lingering spearmint
after his words had silenced…
“Granger, you really are a clever little witch, I didn’t even notice you
shoving this thing in my bag. You’d make a good pick-pocket. It really is too
bad your blood is filthy, with smarts and cunning like yours you’d do well in
green. See you tonight. D.”
That was it? THAT was his response? She had been hoping he would be pissed that
Harry and Ron knew… why would she hope that? Because then I’d get to calm him
down, we’d have to talk about it, he’d still be sending me messages. Hermione
rolled onto her stomach and put her face into the pillow. Why is this
happening? Because she now knew what was going on inside her. She could no
longer pretend that she stared at Malfoy simply due to his aesthetics, could no
longer lie to herself and say it was simply a physical curiosity. She had to
stop trying to convince herself that this attraction was only skin deep.
Hermione liked Draco Malfoy.
Perhaps it was his intelligence – he’d been right in the assumption that
Gryffindor boys were more brawn than brains. As much as she loved her friends
and fellow house mates she struggled daily in an attempt to express herself in
a way that was both authentic yet easy for her friends to understand. When she
presented as she was without dumbing herself down she saw Ron’s eyes clouding
over and Harry turning pink with effort to comprehend her words.
Potentially it was his internal conflict. Hermione related to the battle within
as she came from muggle parents and had to fight an urge to succumb to the name
calling of Mudblood, the perceived lower social status and to build up her own
confidence to be able to meet each day face on. There was also the struggle
within regarding her parents. Both Muggles and Muggleborns, with no hint of
magic on either side for at least three generations. It was hard to connect
with them on common ground, they only knew of the Wizarding World what she
chose to share with them and she had not never felt any level of true
acceptance before her eleventh birthday, always knowing there was something
different about herself preventing her from ingratiating herself within muggle
social circles.
Hermione could understand and empathise with Draco’s need to care for himself
and his mother now that they were both turn cloaks. The Malfoy’s would be at
the top of Voldemort’s list if he were to find out both Draco and Narcissa had
defected, and Hermione’s parents, muggles who gave birth to the girl who so
often assisted Harry Potter, and now the defected Draco Malfoy, would be next
as Hermione knew Voldemort would want her alive to feel the pain of losing her
family before he finished her off. She felt a violent agony within her chest
and sat up sucking in air.
Regardless of her feelings, or her attraction, towards Malfoy, she had to keep
her head on straight, she had to make sure this potion was brewed correctly and
she knew it was imperative that she ignore his sarcasm, his wit, his movements,
his eyes so that she could concentrate.
A dalliance with Draco Malfoy may be a wonderful fantasy but Hermione
understood that the greater good came before personal pleasure and as such as
made a quiet vow to herself then and there that she would bury this feeling,
place it in a box within her mind, place that box in a cupboard, lock that
cupboard, close to the door to the room the cupboard was in and then burn down
the entire house if she had to. If she still felt … tenderly?... towards Malfoy
after the war was won then perhaps, at that point in time, with everyone aware
he was now on the side of the Order and all the Death Eaters vanquished, maybe
then she could follow this fantasy down the rabbit hole and enjoy a moment of
madness… but until then she had to continue fighting, continue surviving,
continue helping Harry destroy the Horcruxes and end the Wizarding War.
The defeat of Voldemort may be Harry’s destiny, but Hermione knew he would only
achieve it with her help, her fate was tied to his and this meant she was also
tied to Voldemort. Hermione shuddered at the thought and left her dorm to clear
her mind before her afternoon Charms class and her evening ahead with Malfoy.
***
Draco was unsettled. Granger had managed to undo his theivospell on his
backpack and slide her filthy fingers inside his front pocket. He was unsure if
he was more annoyed or impressed with her. Maybe it hadn’t gone off because she
was putting something in rather than removing one of his belongings. Maybe he
hadn’t ever considered the possibility of a mudblood getting near his
possessions and therefore the spell wouldn’t work against her? Maybe she really
and truly was the most intelligent witch of their generation. Regardless, the
notepad had worked seemingly well and he understood she would have placed
numerous protective enchantments on the cover, and within the pages so he was
comfortable using it as a direct tool for communication with her.
Moreso than the invasion of his dufflebag, Draco was frustrated that Hermione
had shared with Potter and the Weasel. He understood her reasoning, in fact if
he looked at it with a clear and logical head he could see it was their best
option; this would stop Potter and Weasel attempting to follow him to find out
why he and Hermione were disappearing at the same time, it would take more
suspicion off of him if Potter and weasel knew Granger was “keeping an eye on
him” so to say, and it would allow his new status of defected Death Eater more
credibility as Granger was a big part of the inside circle in the Order and
Draco was aware that many fighting on the side of the Order had doubts that he
and his mother had truly betrayed their previous Master.
None of that mattered in this moment, however, as Draco felt a deflation in his
chest, the air rushing out of his secrecy balloon. He had enjoyed the idea of
meeting with Granger unbeknownst to others, in the dark, in the dungeons,
without even the moon to witness his eyes lingering on her body as she moved
about the room. This fantasy had been playing in his mind all morning and he
knew that was all it was – a fantasy. Draco Malfoy may now be a member of the
Order of the Phoenix, an irreplaceable replacement for the original turncloak,
a Death Eater who couldn’t hold onto his convictions and who fell fast from the
idea of a Pure Blood World when Voldemort had begun threatening his mother… but
he was still a Malfoy, still one of the 28, still a man of high status and a
man who would one day have to marry a member of one of the 27 remaining pure
families to continue the line of Malfoy with magic blood, with class, with
dignity. He’d never be able to hold his head up high again if he actually
touched the Mudblood. Sure, she was smart, and pretty, and her body was… well,
it was more than Malfoy had ever dreamt a woman could be as far as he could
tell from her figure, her movements and the brief touches he’d been allowed in
a moment of chaos. It didn’t make a difference, his father would detest him,
disown him, cast him out…
Draco laughed into the emptiness surrounding him. His father never would. He
too badly wanted to pass on the Malfoy name and with no son he would never
achieve his goal of continuing his blood line. Lucious would rather obliviate
Draco and offer the Mudblood to the Dark Lord to deal with.
Draco was suddenly overcome with tension, it began in his stomach and worked
its way up and down his body until every extremity was shaking and his eyes
were merely slits he could barely see through. Neither his father nor the Dark
Lord would ever hurt her. Draco would see to that. He needed her alive and well
and happy, because he needed her brains and her tenacity, to help him. That was
all. He was tense because of the idea of his assistant being torn from him, not
Granger herself simply the role she had recently taken on in his life. That was
all. Draco took a deep breath and his hands unclenched.
He picked up his notebook and saw she had not responded. He hadn’t been
expecting one, it just would have been polite is all. That really shows the
colour of her blood, her class… doesn’t even keep up with the niceties required
between distinguished adults, he thought, and sighed. He picked up his pen but
there was a knock on his bedroom door. He stuffed the notebook into his pocket
and used his wand to unlock his door from his bed.
Pansy poked her head in.
“Hey Draco, a few of us are going to begin a game of Strip Chess, you haven’t
joined us in so long… we miss you…” She wiggled her eyebrows and Draco took
this to mean that the girls missed seeing him topless. He was too smart to lose
anything more than his shirt. He didn’t understand why Pansy kept playing, she
would lose her cloak on her first go and each turn after that would increase
the pile of her discarded garments. Maybe she just liked the attention. She was
right, though, he’d been so busy planning and plotting and sneaking off to
Order meetings that his appearances in the Slytherin common room were dwindling
and he needed to cast away any growing suspicion.
Draco smiled salaciously at Pansy who instantly blushed from her neck up. Draco
was aware, from stolen moments together, moments he had been trying to lose
himself in something, someone, anything other than his mission or his turmoil,
that her blush actually began on her belly and moved up like fire, rising until
her stomach, breasts, shoulders, neck and face were all a rosy pink. He stood
slowly, stretching his arms above his head and, knowing she was still watching,
began unbuttoning his shirt.
He undid the top button and spread the collar, running his fingers across the
smooth, pale and strong muscles peeking through. His fingers moved down to the
next one and he spread the gap wider. He heard her gasp softly and looked up to
meet her eyes making sure she kept her gaze locked on his as his hands wandered
further down to the third button. He undid this one excruciating slow, a
movement that normally takes two seconds drawn out over half a minute. Pansy’s
chest was rising and falling as she gulped in the air around her. He stopped
there and ran his hands down over the material, sliding down each side, his
nipples hardening and clawing at the fabric as his fingers pressed against them
firmly. His hands reached his pants and he slid them down gently, very
carefully not touching his growing member. He beckoned her forward and she
stumbled as she moved into the room, turning to close the door behind her.
“Uh-uh-uh, Miss Parkinson, you leave that open, we’ll be joining the others in
a minute. It felt unfair to you ladies to have you see this, and only this, in
games past. I thought it may be a treat for you if I came with a disadvantage…
if I’m not wearing a shirt I’ll have to take something else off, won’t I…”
“Ohh, ummm…” Pansy managed before giggling into her cupped hands. “Draco, you
don’t need to give us an advantage, we manage fine by ourselves…”
“Well, if you say so…” His hands moved to begin doing up the fourth button when
she finally made a move and reached forwards to stop him.
“No, Draco, you were right, you’re always right, you should, you should
definitely take it off and give us the handicap.”
“Come on then, Parkinson, get over here and finish this for me.”
She smiled widely and moved forwards, her confidence regaining strength now
that she knew he wanted her to touch him. She looked up into his eyes and heard
him muttering something before turning his wand at her face. She felt a gentle
tingle pass over her but nothing more and so she continued slowly divesting
Draco of the fine green silk shirt he usually strutted around the Slytherin
common room in.
Draco looked down at the face in front of him, a moment ago Pansy Parkinson,
now Hermione Granger – only he would see this illusion and it wouldn’t last
long, it was a complex spell which required more focus than he currently had.
He had simply wanted to feel what it would be like to touch the mudblood and
this was the only way he could come up with without actually touching the
mudblood.
Pansy’s eyes were now a soft caramel colour, golden flecks circled the pupil
and a dash of green was visible on the edge of her left iris. Her cheekbones
were higher, a slight spattering of the palest freckles upon them – Draco had
never been this close to Granger in reality, he’d never known she had freckles.
Pansy’s mouth was fuller on the bottom and her top lip was more curved and
rounded not as pointed or thin. Her teeth had grown slightly and her chin was
angular yet feminine. Her forehead was smooth until she furrowed her eyebrows
in concentration creating gentle ripples – an expression Draco was used to
seeing when Granger was working on essays in class or stirring her cauldron in
the dungeons. Pansy’s hands had freed his chest and were now running themselves
across his torso, stopping to feel his chiselled stomach, to gently pinch his
nipples, to breathe into his neck. He half closed his eyes. With this arousal,
this illusion and her hands on him Draco could almost pretend it was Grange
touching him and he fucking liked it. At the thought of her his cock stiffened
immediately, not the slow and steady rhythm it normally favoured but instead a
gigantic flush of blood pumped into his member creating an illicit pain as he
pulsed against the restraining briefs. Pansy saw him shift and looked down,
eyes widening in surprise as she had never seen him at full excitement before.
She reached to caress him and Draco relaxed into her touch as her fingers
grazed the material above his cock, he felt his hardness dribbling into his
shorts and he thrust his hips forward to create a firmer pressure on his shaft.
She continued rubbing, her caramel eyes staring into his, her mouth parting,
her beautiful freckle covered face coming close to his, their lips about to
meet as she breathed his name out… Oh, Hermione, he thought…
“Oh, Draco!” came Pansy’s voice and Draco pulled back and stepped away becoming
softer as the seconds went by.
Hermione looked at him in confusion and spoke with Pany’s voice…
“What’s wrong, Draco?”
“Nothing, Pansy, but we better get out in the common room if we want to make
the game.”
He walked by her, dropping his undone shirt on his bed and then turned and
beckoned her forward. He walked by her side and allowed her to hold his hand
until they sat down on opposite sides of the table littered with chess pieces.
Zabini began talking … “You all know how we do this, but I’ll explain again in
case some of you” he looked at Goyle, “Still don’t understand this simple game.
Boys versus girl, four a team, each player takes a turn in making a move – if
you had the last move and the opposition takes your piece you must take off an
item of clothing. No scarves, gloves, hats or snow cloaks are to be worn when
we begin, only pants, shirts, dresses, socks, undergarments and school robes.
We play until one team achieves Check Mate, or Stale Mate, or until one side is
completely divested. Everyone understand?” Zabini’s eyes were still on Goyle’s
face, Goyle looked like he was trying with utmost difficulty to comprehend
Zabini’s speech but he nodded anyway and Zabini sighed, Draco knew that Zabini
would have to repeat his speech at least twice more during the game.
Draco took the first turn for the boy’s team moving a pawn into the open and
then leaning back to watch the escapades unfold before him.
***
~ Godric’s Hollow Many Years Earlier ~
“Albus, come back here! This isn’t finished! I don’t care for your new
boyfriend or your ideas, you’re neglecting our sister and she needs you, Albus,
we both do!”
Albus turned, his thin ginger beard waving in the breeze as the door stood open
behind him. His eyes bore into his brothers, so like his own in colour and
depth of passion, yet so distant, so foreign.
“When will you understand that everything we are doing is for Ariana? I am
going to give her a better life, a better life for all of us.”
“For her? FOR HER? You bloody ignorant fool, if you can’t see that he’s using
you as a pawn in his own imbecilic and malevolent game then you’re as stupid as
the goats out back! How dare you attempt to say that your absence, your
neglect, your new way of thinking is for her? If you thought about her, if you
cared for her, if you loved her you would be here with her, not out there with
him!”
Albus took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He had never enjoyed conflict and
fighting with family was always more difficult as you each have ammunition on
the other that others do not, each can prepare to launch the final missile
which will irreparably damage the relationship. Albus truly loved his brother
however his slow mind, his dull wit, his acceptance at staying in Godric’s
Hollow for the rest of his life was deeply disappointing to Albus. He tried to
never show his disillusionment with his family… Gellert was the only one who
understood him, the only one who knew him. Gellert was waiting for him and
Albus had no more time left to fight.
“Aberforth, please, look at me. I am your bother, I am the head of this
household and I am the one who has the task of keeping both you and Ariana
safe. No harm will come to either of you again, ever. Please, try, try for me,
try to understand Aberfoth, this is for the greater good…”
Aberforth’s eyes bored into Albus’s own until Albus had to look away. He felt
shamed and he knew that there may be casualties along the way however he also
knew that he would never allow anyone to hurt his sister again. He turned and
left, closing the door behind him and as he walked away from his brother’s
righteous, unflinching stare.
***** Lessons on Courtesy *****
Chapter 3
~ Present Day ~
It was early evening and Hermione was getting ready to meet Draco in the Room
of Requirement. The Gryffindor common room was empty, the Quidditch team had
long since departed to warm up, shower and robe for the match, and many of
their fellow housemates had wandered down to the stands to find seats and get
comfortable before the whistle blew signalling the release of the balls.
“I don’t think we’ll be needing Herbology or Arithmancy, Draco seems to be
holding his own in both of those classes…” Hermione muttered to herself as she
pulled the books out of her bag so make more room for books she would require…
require… “What am I doing? The Room of Requirement will have any and all books
we may need and will be able to produce any more that we think of during our
study session.” Hermione sighed and blew a lock of her bushy brown hair out of
her eyes as she bent forwards to repack her bag and began the incline to her
dorm room to drop it off. She pulled her special notebook and her favourite
always-inked quill from the front pocket, sent Draco a short list of things she
thought would beneficial to begin with, and then placed both in her inside robe
pocket before checking herself quickly in the mirror for food in her teeth or
ink stains on her hands or face and descended back to the common room.
Hermione walked into the common room to find Ron sitting in one of the chintz
single seaters in front of the fire dressed in his Keeper attire and with his
broomstick at his side.
“Ron, why are you not at the match?” Hermione asked as she strode purposefully
to the fire to warm her hands up before her walk through the slightly chilled
castle.
“I couldn’t concentrate. Needed to come talk to you before the match. Hermione,
do you really trust Malfoy?”
“Oh, Ron, don't be dimwitted, of course I don’t! However he IS working for
Dumbledore and the Order now so any help I can give him can potentially benefit
the resistance.”
“Yeah… I guess… Are you’re sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
“Ron, even if I did, which I don’t because I can take care of myself, you know
as well as I do that if I were to show up to a tutoring session with Malfoy
with you in tow he would simply turn the other way. Or is that your plan? To
shadow me and scare off the only chance I have at having a closer look at
Malfoy’s intentions?”
Ron’s face immediately began growing scarlet.
“No! I just don’t like the idea of you spending alone time with him!”
“And you’re positive this has only to do with my safety, right, Ron?” Hermione
asked scathingly looking at Ron through slitted eyes.
“What are you saying, Hermione?”
“I’m saying that as you’re now back with Lavender it really shouldn’t matter to
you who I spend time with whether that time is alone or with others, whether
that time is helping someone with schoolwork or simply enjoying a sociable
occasion. What I do with my time is only your business as far as it pertains to
our missions from the Order, or our friendship – which, by the way, has felt
rather strained as of late”
“Maybe if you didn’t hang around the likes of Malfoy we’d have more to say to
each other!” Ron bellowed standing up quickly.
“Ron, I have spent precisely eleven minutes alone with Malfoy so far, outside
of potions class while you and Harry and Ginny were getting into Merlin knows
what sort of strife on the pitch. If you really are oh so concerned then stop
acting like a brawny buffoon and be around when you should be!” Hermione turned
to make her way to the common room door when she felt Ron’s fingers close
around her arm halting her progress.
“Hermione, I just don’t want you getting hurt.”
“You should have thought about that before our first kiss, shouldn’t have you,
Ron…” Hermione hissed at him. “We ended things because we wished to save our
friendship, but if I had known then what I know now, that you can never truly
move back into that friendship space with a person you have bared your soul to,
I would have never allowed your lips to touch mine, nor any other part of you,
Ron, your hands, your heart…” Hermione’s voice was low, deep and shaking as she
fought to keep internal control. She had truly thought that the sting she had
felt when she and Ron had ended had healed but although she knew she no longer
loved him in a romantic way she couldn’t find her way back to loving him as a
friend either, especially not with Lavender being there at his side, on his
lap, attached to his face like a barnacle to a ship. They never had any time
alone to reconnect or to begin mending the fracture their short lived romance
had caused between them, and whenever they were alone, such as now, Ron seemed
to look at her from a distant place as if his heart would not allow itself to
pump in her presence.
“Hermione… I… I’m sorry… hearing that out loud, you’re, you’re right.” Ron’s
eyes were downcast and Hermione saw a small trickle from his left eye which he
ignored as he raised his face. He opened his mouth and closed it again, opened
it and coughed then closed it and continued looking at Hermione with a blank
expression.
“It is fine, Ron. Truly. I know you were hurting, too, but we can’t just expect
what we had to suddenly return.”
Suddenly Ron was in front of her and his red hair was smoldering like the fire
behind him and his eyes were intense and set upon hers with a singular focus
and in that moment Hermione remembered why she had once thought she loved him.
Ron’s face came closer and then his lips were on hers and their mouths were
parting and he was pulling her closer and Hermione felt her heart break all
over again because she now understood why Ron was here, it wasn’t about her
safety, it wasn’t about their friendship, it was about his feelings and how
they had never dwindled like hers had.
Hermione allowed him to kiss her, she felt in her heart that this would be
their last kiss, this was Ron’s way of attempting to push back into the light
the love that they had lost, it was his own way of moving forwards and claiming
his autonomy by taking her kiss, it was his way of saying goodbye and I loved
you and I do love you but I know you no longer love me and thank you for the
memories. Hermione allowed this kiss to linger and then she pulled back, still
in his arms and looked up at him. He was breathing heavily and she could smell
Butterbeer and pecan pie, his face was gentler than it had been in weeks when
in close proximity to her and for the first time Hermione felt at ease with
him. She smiled at him and he smiled at her before moving back and placing his
broom over his shoulder.
“I should get back down there, the match is going to begin soon and I gotta,
you know.” He made a blocking motion with his hands and Hermione laughed
although she didn’t find it funny; she felt as though their exchange had begun
putting their pieces back together and that she could now finally relax around
him.
“Good luck with the match, Ron!” Hermione said as they left the common room
together.
“Good luck teaching Malfoy anything! Pffft, he’d probably take better
instructions as a ferret…” Ron rolled his eyes and smirked as he began the
descent towards the entrance hall whilst Hermione turned at the end of the
corridor to make her way to the Room of Requirement giggling softly at the
reminder of the fake Moody’s transfiguration of Malfoy years prior.
***
Hermione reached the spot on the wall on the 7th floor where the door to the
room of requirement became visible. She turned on the spot and walked in front
of the wall thrice thinking furiously I need study with Draco Malfoy, I need to
study with Draco Malfoy, I need to study with Draco Malfoy. Nothing happened.
Persistent she turned and began her pacing once more this time thinking I need
access to Draco Malfoy’s study room, I need access to Draco Malfoy’s study
room, I need access to Draco Malfoy’s study room. She looked up expectantly and
was surprised when the wall was still simply stone. Determined Hermione began
stalking herself again in front of the wall however before she could begin her
new mantra Draco appeared at the end of the hall and made his way slowly up to
her. He smirked when he saw that she had not yet been allowed access to his
private lair.
“Maybe you weren’t the right choice for a tutor if you can’t even open the door
to the study!” laughed Malfoy as he began pacing back and forwards in front of
the wall. A few seconds later and the stones were changing form, a large wooden
door in rich brown had appeared and swung open to grant access to the room
within. Draco stepped back and bowed sarcastically, “ladies first.” He grinned
as he swept his hand in front of him beckoning Hermione forwards. She stepped
inside and was at once taken aback by the sheer size and grandeur of the room.
The ceiling was high with exposed wooden beams and glass sections so that they
could utilise the star gazing devices on the long table in the left hand
corner. The room itself was long, the right wall was completely covered by
bookshelves, the left hand side adorned with the Hogwarts banner, a mirror, a
Foe Glass and a large display cabinet stocked with quills, parchment, a
sneakoscope, vials, a pensieve, and an assortment of other interesting objects
including a broken Time Tuner, jars of potions ingredients, a pewter cauldron
and, of all things!, thought Hermione, a large copy of the Malfoy Mantra. She
read it over carefully before continuing her stride round the room taking in
the details.
"Owe no one, compromise nothing, take what is yours and live free,
The Malfoy name offers the world to those born unto our family tree.
To be a Malfoy by name is an honour which can be revoked,
The Malfoy’s are the mighty and we rule the townsfolk.
A Malfoy is a Malfoy not just by name nor blood but by belief,
Never worrying about the dilution of our heritage is a relief.
Ideologies spanning back to the start of magical times,
We’ve enough connections and gold to never worry about our crimes.
We pay those we owe
We live by this code
We take what we’re owed."
In the centre sat a large square table big enough to easily accommodate eight
to ten students, their books and studying accoutrements. In front of the
bookshelves a bright fire crackled away two feet off the floor above the
Slytherin coloured mandala rug and three couches were huddled around the fire
each with throw cushions and blankets in a mixture of red and green. The room
was warm, spacious and had everything Hermione could have wanted for tutoring
sessions. Without looking at Draco she continued her inspection and began
pausing at the bookshelves. Hermione could see some of her favourite titles, a
mixture of academic, biographical, fiction and, more interestingly, a handful
of muggle authors, which looked like first editions if the leather bound covers
were anything to judge by. She walked along the bookshelves gently caressing
some of the titles, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them; Hogwarts, A
History; Quidditch Stars and their Lives off the Pitch; The Darkest Mark,
History of the Darkest Wizards of the Ages; How to Train your House-Elf; The
Hobbit, An Autobiographical Adventure; Magical Make-Overs; Dragon Nuggets and
Hippogriff Burgers, a look at the Wide World of Wizarding Delicacies; Squib
Simple, Magic Made Easy, and so many more that Hermione had never seen before
either in muggle bookstores nor the Hogwarts library. She fingered the spine of
a book titled “Defensive Curses Every Young Witch Should Learn” and sank into
one of the couches, unconsciously pushing a pillow behind her back and bringing
a rug over her legs which were drawn up underneath her.
“Ahem. Granger, you’re not here to read to yourself, you’re here to help me.
I’ve compiled a list of the potions I wish to create before exams, a list of
charms I need assistance with and a list of transfigurations I’ve been having
trouble with, as well as a few points throughout history I don’t quite
understand as yet, namely how the first translator of Trollish to English ever
understood those freaks to begin with.” Draco stared at Hermione expectantly
however she did not move nor give any indication she had heard him.
“Granger! Did you listen to what I said, or did you sit under a floating candle
at breakfast today and get wax in your ear? Come over here and help me!”
“I heard you, Malfoy.” Hermione responded softly, still half immersed in the
book, “I am going to lay down some rules before we begin, the first one being
you never speak to me like that again, I am not your House Elf, you will treat
me with respect and if you want my attention you will ask for it rather than
demanding it like a petulant child.” Draco stuck his tongue out at her behind
her back as she continued, “Secondly, if you do happen to actually speak to
your House-Elf like that you are to cease immediately. I’m aware your father
acquired a new one since Dobby’s dismissal and I expect you treat her
courteously and with respect.” Draco’s raised his eyebrows, he’d no idea his
father had procured a new house elf, although it made sense as everything at
home had been immaculate over the holidays and he knew his mother wouldn’t be
caught dead polishing silverware no matter which side of the war she was on.
“Thirdly, I expect you to pull your weight, Malfoy. I won’t be doing your
assignments for you, I will help you understand some of the more difficult
components to specific spell makings and give you books which will expand your
understanding on our core subjects for you to read over within your own time. I
also hold the right to amend these rules at any stage and to add or remove them
as I please.”
“So, what you’re basically saying, is that you are completely in charge and I
am but a simple slow Slytherin who will have to bend to your will if I want
your help?” He blanched as he said this aloud; he’d never thought he’d be
asking anyone for help, least of all Granger the Mudblood, his pride took a
short blow as the words left his lips and he looked up to see her staring at
him over the back of her shoulder from the couch.
“Yes, Malfoy, that’s precisely what I’m saying.”
“And it would truly do no good if I were to offer you galleons? Or offer to pay
for the inception of your SPEW program, or buy Potter a new broomstick or
something?”
“Galleons don’t rule the world, Malfoy, information does, and those who are
open minded enough to continue seeking new knowledge as they understand that
one never stops learning.”
“How very Dumbledore of you. Shall we begin?”
“Yes; I’ve already sent your notebook a list of enchantments you need to read
up on, I see all the books you’ll require are on this shelf, I’ll be right here
if you have questions. You may begin.” With that Hermione stuck her head right
back between the covers of the book in her hands and Draco was left standing
somewhat dumbfounded at her idea of tutelage. He sighed loudly and began
muttering under his breath knowing Hermione could hear every comparison he was
making between her and a Dragon wrangler and he smiled when he heard her giggle
softly. He pulled out his notebook and found that she had, indeed, sent him
notes, it must have been when it had been in his bag as he’s not felt it
vibrate. He vowed to keep it in his robe pocket from then on so he wouldn’t
miss anything in future. He walked over to the shelves and located the three
suggested books, went to the display cabinet and pulled out quills, ink wells
and parchment then sat himself in the centre of the large table and opened to
page 394.
Hermione was enjoying her book immensely, she was learning about a new spell
called “Octomutante” a charm a person casts upon themselves or their children
which will only ever activate at signs of sexual aggression on the point of
penetration. The theory behind the spell was complex, in essence the charm
would lay dormant, hopefully for the duration of the person’s life, however for
those whom may find themselves at the hands of a sexual predator the charm
would activate and turn the labia majora or testicular skin into tentacles
which would capture the predator and hold them until the Magical Law
Enforcement Officers arrived. The beauty of this spell was that it only
activated upon malicious intent not by physical violence, to prevent the charm
activating during passionate and rough consensual sex. Hermione thought this
through and came to the conclusion that this was potentially one of the most
intelligent self-defence spells she had ever come across. She went to the
contents page and looked up the “Used Throughout” period to see if this spell
had ever been activated and found that it had been at its inception. A Witch by
the name of Wanda Wallikons had been working at an orphanage in Italy decades
ago and suspected a Wizard of being inappropriate with some of the children in
the orphanages care. She had then created the spell with the assistance of her
husband, a member of the Magical Protection Squad by testing it on herself and
exposing herself to a known sexual predator kept in custody at the Ministry of
Magic at the time. It had worked and so she had then proceeded to cast the
enchantment on all the children in her care. Two weeks went by and nothing
happened and she began to feel relived; she had created a wonderful spell to
prevent sexual abuse and had found that her suspicions had been false… until
she received a Patronus from Salmanca, her assistant who was working at the
orphanage that evening with the suspected child abuser, Frasklin. Frasklin had
allegedly sneaked into the room of a ten year old boy and told him that to
enter into the magical school next year he had to perform some secret tasks… at
once the boy’s body had erupted into tentacles and held Frasklin against the
wall as Frasklin screamed and the child cried for help. Salmanca had run in,
magically bound Frasklin and reversed the enchantments effects on the child who
then had his memory taken in a vial to show to the Magical Law Enforcement
Squad. Frasklin had been sentenced to life in Azkaban and Salmanca had received
a plaque in her name whilst Wanda had been offered the position of Head of
Magical Child Protection, which she had turned down happy to have created such
an effective enchantment and to continue looking after the kids in her care.
Hermione put the book down with tears in her eyes thinking of how there had
been no reports of child sexual abuse in the Wizarding World as long as she had
been part of it and wondered if, perhaps, all parents knew of this spell and
cast it upon their children at birth? That would leave muggleborns vulnerable
however she could talk to Madam Pomfrey and potentially the school could host a
day where anyone wishing to enchant this upon themselves could come to the
healers office and learn from her. What an ingenious way of preventing horrific
trauma and capturing predators.
Hermione was brought back into the room and away from her thoughts as her couch
bounced and she felt a presence beside her. Draco had flopped on the couch
right next to her and was leaning in with a book open to a page with miniscule
writing.
“How, Granger, am I supposed to interpret these symbols if I cannot bloody see
them?” Draco’s knee was pressing against hers and he held the book closely to
her face to prove that these symbols were tiny indeed. Hermione glanced over
her shoulder and saw exactly what she needed.
“Come on, Malfoy.” She beckoned him over to the astronomy table and placed the
book next to the telescope and picked up a magnifying glass. “Use this, it will
all become much clearer.”
Draco took it from her and stared at her.
“What, pray tell, do I do with this, Granger?”
“Malfoy, you can’t be serious! Magnifying glasses are not strictly muggle
inventions, I happen to know, from reading - ” She stopped as Draco burst into
a fit of laughter.
“Your face, Granger, hahahaha, of course I know what this is, I just wanted to
see how dumb you actually thought I was! As if a magnifying glass could ever
have been a muggle invention anyway, it’s obviously a magical artefact that
some squib or mudblood stole from us.” He bent down to begin reading the page
and Hermione stepped forwards and slammed the book shut snatching the
magnifying glass out of his hand.
“What do you think -”
“No, Malfoy, what do you think you’re doing? You sought me out and pleaded with
me to come here and waste my precious time on you, yet you still apparently
think that muggles, and by proxy, muggleborns, are not smart enough to create
objects such as this?” She dangled the glass from her finger tips and it swayed
precariously and slipping from her fingers and smashing against the stone
floor. “I knew you were narrow minded but I honestly thought you may have
changed slightly since coming over to the side of the Order, but no matter what
we do, or where we end up you continue to treat me like scum. Well hear this
Draco Malfoy, no more!” Hermione roared like the lion she was. “You will treat
me with respect, you will treat me like a lady, in fact you will treat me as if
I am a distant Malfoy relative whom your father has forbidden you from being
rude towards, you will speak to me with no ill tones, you will never ever speak
the word “Mudblood” again, nor will you ever pick on another muggle born in
this school. That, and my favour, is the new price for my tutelage. And no, you
may not leave, Malfoy,” Hermione continued as she saw him twitch and begin to
move away from her, “You require my assistance and I will not fail the Oder
because you are too cowardly to take up a challenge such as being polite to
someone who is helping you. Do you understand me?” She glared at him, her face
fierce, her eyes wide, her cheeks flushed and her chest heaving.
Draco stared at her knowing that she had meant every word and Draco felt
something akin to… respect… for the Granger girl. No one had ever spoken to him
like this before, no one had ever offered to be rude to him for his benefit, no
one had ever told him he couldn’t leave a situation and made him stay for his
own good, in fact, looking back, no one had ever really offered him a guiding
hand regardless of how bossy it may be… his father had bullied, his mother had
doted and the teachers here, bar Snape, had all been frightened of his family.
Hermione Granger, smartest witch in their year, pretty face, beautiful body,
muddy blood, had just given him a mouthful to make sure he stayed in line to
allow her to help him. Draco’s heart felt lighter as he pointed his wand
towards the smashed magnifying glass and whispered “reparo”. She was still
staring at him waiting for his response so he decided to give himself an out,
instead of spilling his feelings and thoughts he offered her a challenge he
knew she would win.
“Fine, Granger, tell me who did invent the magnifying glass and I will bend to
your will.”
“In the 13th century a lecturer and scientist by the name of Professor Bacon -
”
“Bacon? Seriously, Granger?” Draco began laughing as Hermione continued.
“By the name of Professor BACON was researching mirrors and reflections and he
found, through one of his experiments - ”
“Was he a muggle?”
“Yes, Malfoy, Bacon was a muggle.”
At this both of them began laughing and the tension eased. Hermione opened the
book again and allowed Draco space to continue with his studying as she walked
back to the couch. She lay back and closed her eyes feeling confused yet happy
at the progress of their first sessions and thought, for the first time, that
this arrangement may not be as unpleasant as she had initially foreseen. Draco
was nice to look at and when he wasn’t being obnoxious or malicious he was
actually rather laid back and amusing. She found herself trying to think of
topics to broach so that they may continue talking however each seemed forced
and she finally gave up and decided not to waste their session discussing
frivolous topics and let him study. She leaned over and picked up her book and
delved back in as Draco continued translating ancient runes using the muggle
invention. The fire was crackling, Hermione was relaxed, Draco’s mind was
nowhere near the Death Eaters of the Order and for the first time in years both
felt a sense of peace. Hermione looked over to the table and saw that Draco was
looking at her. They shared a smile before each went back to their respective
books.
An hour later Hermione heard a cheer roaring through the door and stole a
glance at the clock on the wall next to the entrance. It was almost eleven at
night and both needed to hurry back to their Dorms. The Quidditch match was
obviously over and they had to hurry if they were to beat curfew. Hermione
turned to alert Draco to the time and found that instead of studying he had
fallen forwards and closed his eyes, his breathing was steady and the
magnifying glass was pushing against his cheek. She hurried over and tried to
think of how best to wake him before finally poking his shoulder gently, and
then with more force as he continued to murmur and sleep. She leaned in to him
and hissed in his ear.
“Malfoy, wake up! It’s 10.56 and we have four minutes to get back to the common
rooms!”
“Whuuuhh? Granger, shhhh, Granger, hush….”
“MALFOY! WAKE UP!”
Draco sat up immediately his eyes alert and responsive as he took a deep
breath.
“Granger, what’s wrong?”
“We’re late, Malfoy, oh we are so late, McGonagall is going to be furious if I
have to wake the Fat Lady after curfew, I’m going to have my library privileges
revoked, I am going to have to hand in my pass for the restricted section, Oh
Merlin, Malfoy, we have to run!”
With that Hermione dashed to her couch and picked up her notebook, quill, over-
robe and scarf before rushing to the entrance and throwing Malfoy a glance over
her shoulder.
“Why are you just sitting there, Malfoy?”
“We won’t make it, Granger, three minutes to get to our dorms? Laughable. Run
if you must but I’d much rather relax.” He waved his hand at her and she knew
he wasn’t being facetious but serious. She scrunched up her nose and pushed
open the door beginning her dash to the Gryffindor Common room. She could hear
the crowds ahead of her, their cheerful cries echoing down each hallway she ran
through, attempting to catch the crows and be allowed access with the masses.
She rounded the corner of the Gryffindor entrance and pushed her legs as fast
as she could, the door was swinging shut and she tried to call out for someone
to hold it but she was breathless from sprinting and no sound came out. She
halted as the painting swang shut and the sounds of the Fat Lady snoring began.
It was done. Curfew was in place and she had missed her entry into the dorms.
Hermione pressed her back against the stone wall and sank down until her arms
were around her legs and her face was in her knees. She cried silently knowing
that the only option was to wake the Fat Lady and face the consequences, the
revocation of rights and the look of disappointment on McGonagall’s face. She
gave herself a few more moments to sit in self-misery before raising her head
to go and wake the Fat Lady.
“About time, Granger. I thought you’d fallen asleep all huddled up on the
floor. I was going to kick you in a minute.”
Draco was leaning against the wall opposite her.
“This is your fault, Malfoy! If not for you I’d have been at the match with
everyone else and I’d have made it before curfew and I wouldn’t have to wake
the Fat Lady and face all the consequences of breaking curfew!” Hermione wiped
her cheek and stared at him stonily. She expected him to retort and was
surprised when he instead held out his hand and offered to help her up. She
took it and allowed him to pull her into a standing position so they were
almost eye to eye.
“You’re right, Granger, it is my fault. I don’t want you losing your library
time or free time on account of me… more so I relealised that if you were
caught breaking curfew I’d have no more access to your brains, therefore
helping you helps me.”
“Right, Draco, well let me remind you that your father can’t buy our way out of
this one! Dumbledore’s orders are law here!”
“True, Granger, True… but you only face consequences if you get caught.”
“Well obviously, Malfoy! Can you see any other way into the common room? Do you
have a magic carpet outside that can fly me up to the window of the girls
dorms?”
“Great idea, Granger, I’ll remember that the next time I’m feeling
voyeuristic.”
“Gross, Malfoy.”
“You’ll only get in trouble if you wake her. She doesn’t count the students.
She won’t know you’re missing.”
“And where do you propose I go for the night, Malfoy? Do you have a special
secret bedroom which only opens up when girls are locked out of… oh!”
“Caught on, have you?” He laughed. The girl may be book smart but she had no
idea what it took to be truly cunning.
They walked back to the Room of Requirement together and Draco stepped back,
inspecting a nearby statue as he spoke softly.
“Go on, Granger, I’ll let you conjure up the bedroom as you’re the one of us
who desperately needs beauty sleep.” He felt himself go red as he lied, he
didn’t think she needed any improvement but had to keep up his charade. He
turned so she wouldn’t see him blush and he heard her steps as she paced and
then a door opening. He span and entered behind her and this time it was Draco
who was taken aback at the room they had entered.
“Granger… where are we?” The walls were painted a lavender colour, the room was
tiny and cramped. Books littered the surface of every desk, table or floor
space and a single bed with a plain white cover was shoved in the corner. A
small white bear with a brown nose sat upon the plush pillow and photoframes
held still images of a small girl and two adults. Upon closer inspection Draco
realised he was looking at a younger Hermione. Her teeth were larger, her hair
was well kept in braids and her freckles more prominent but it was undeniably
Hermione.
Hermione turned, shocked to see him in her family bedroom.
“Draco!”
“What, Witch? You thought that I had somewhere else to go? Curfew is on lock
down on all common rooms, remember. That bed is small but looks fairly snug.”
He strode over and sat upon the doona picking up the bear and inspecting it.
“Good condition. Well loved. I can feel the magic coming off of him – you
practised before you knew you were a Witch, didn’t you?”
“Hands off!” Came a gruff voice and Draco dropped the bear the moment he
realised it was speaking.
“Granger, Granger, Granger, full of surprises, aren’t you…”
“It was an accident… and I just never fixed it.” She walked over to the bed and
sat beside Malfoy as the bear climbed onto her lap and cuddles her tummy.
“Hello Mr. Tummywhuckles!”
“Hello Hermione! How has school been? Are you home for good, now? Who is the
grabby man?”
“Malfoy meet Beartiful Tummywhuckers, Mr. Tummywhuckers, meet Draco Malfoy.”
“How do?” Draco nodded at the bear who ignored him.
“I’m not really here, or you aren’t really with me, I conjured up my room to
sleep in but I’m still at school.”
The bear nodded. “While you’re here come and get some rest. I’ll keep watch on
that one.” He nodded towards Draco who smirked at the idea of being guarded by
a teddy bear. A talking teddy bear. A magical talking teddy bear who seemed
very focused on protecting Hermione. Draco’s face scrunched up.
“Mr. Tallywhacker you’re going to have to watch me closely as I’ll be sleeping
right next to your little miss mummy here.”
“Draco, you’ll do no such thing!”
“Granger I wasn’t the one who conjured up a room with only a single bed. You
know the saying, you;ve made your bed now it’s time for us both to climb in.”
“That’s incorrect, and you are not climbing in my bed.”
“Then we’d better leave this room and create a space that suits us both.”
“Ahem!” interjected the bear.
“Uhh, all three of us?” corrected Draco. The bear nodded curtly.
Together they rose and left Hermione’s childhood bedroom and re-entered the
seventh floor.
“I’ll make the sleeping quarters this time, Granger.”
Draco turned and walked past her three times as the door appeared.
This time they entered into the Gryffindor girls dorm, five beds, five bed
stands, five trunks, a window at the end and five robes on hooks.
“Ahhh, I’ve always wondered… Granger, which is yours?”
Hermione pointed to the one under the window and moved towards it.
“Right, I’ll take this one.” Draco muttered sitting on the one closest to the
exit.
“And I will patrol the night to save my Mistress from any threats within this
reality or her waking dreams!” Declared the bear as he began a silent march to
and fro, eyeing Draco off each time he strolled passed his bed. Draco rolled
his eyes and called down to Hermione.
“When we wake up you leave first, we can’t be seen leaving this room together
first thing in the morning. Granger? Granger?”
“She’s already asleep.” Said the bear as he once more made his way up the
carpet between the beds.
“Right, well then, good night Mr. Tallywhacker.”
“Goodnight Dumbo.” The bear gave a mock salute and Draco pulled the curtains
around the bed shut.
***
~ Godric’s Hollow, many years earlier ~
Albus’s heart was beating in his chest, palpitations so hard and fast that he
was having trouble containing himself. He was about to proclaim his love to the
only person who had ever made him feel more and less than real at the same
time. To the person who had shown him a way out of the shadows of his family.
To the person who he held most dearly.
Gellert Grindelwald was on his way over and Albus was not nearly prepared. The
table was set, the food was finished, the music was ambient and the incense
matched the spread and wine perfectly. But his words… each time Albus had
attempted to say aloud how he felt he stuttered, stumbled, spoke too fast or
too softly. His nerves were, for the first time, getting the better of him. He
played nervously with the thin wasp of beard growing on his chin and wound it
round his fingers repetitively as he tried to think of the right phrasing.
Gellert was not an everyday romantic, in fact Albus was unsure what Gellert’s
love language was… he had attempted to fulfil all five requirements, he had
offered services by creating the perfect room and the delectable feast, had a
gift waiting for Gellert, had words, well he would have words when words came,
he spent most of his time with Gellert and he only ever spoke nicely to him, of
him, around him, Albus was perplexed at how Gellert had not picked up on the
obvious signs Albus had been proclaiming nonverbally to him… however Albus did
not care. All he wanted was to express himself and tonight was the night.
Albus was standing in front of the 7foot mirror in his hallway as the doorbell
chimed. Ariana and Aberforth were out camping at the pond at the edge of their
property and Albus knew they wouldn’t be home until morning. He didn’t want him
brother catching sight of Gellert, Aberforth has bluntly told Albus his
thoughts of Gellert and they were far from kind. Albus walked to the door and
took two deep breaths before he heard a voice.
“Albus, why are you standing there behind a closed door? I can see your shadow
covering the light under the door frame, open at once I am going to catch my
death in this snow!”
Albus smiled and pulled the door wide.
“Gellert! Welcome, as always!”
“Welcome when Aberforth is not here… regardless, here I am! And look at you! A
marvel in purple robes and silver cufflinks! What is the occasion, Albus, I
would have dressed up had I known we would be having company!”
“You are the occasion, Gellert, and you are all the company I require.”
Gellert came close and placed a cool hand on Dumbledore’s warm cheek.
“And you I, my friend. And you I.”
Their eyes met and held and Albus could feel that this was it, it was now, and
he was about to open his mouth when Gellert pulled back.
“To the foodstuffs! The empty void within named stomach requires filling!”
Albus sighed and followed Gellert down the hall.
Gellert entered the kitchen and looked around at the candles, the lace cloth,
the gift perfectly wrapped, the rose petals floating around the room dancing in
the smoke of the incense.
“Alby… Albus… this, why, it is magnificent! All this trouble for little old me?
Alby, you shouldn’t have!” Gellert turned and beamed at
Albus who blushed fiercely and scratched his neck attempting to pull his robe
collar out to allow for easier breathing.
“Gellert, there is something I need to tell you.”
“You’re in love with me, Alby, don’t pretend I don’t know! I love you also dear
boy! Now fetch me some mead or wine and let us begin this dance known as love!”
***** Where are you now *****
Chapter Notes
     This chapter is short yet overflowing... This story is going to start
     getting dark so please be warned. I have tagged the appropriate
     trigger warnings as I wanted everyone to understand what may occur
     throughout, it's been rather gentle and smooth so far but their
     journey is about to take a dive into thunderstruck waters and a
     tsunami of ill intent is washing over the protagonists...
     Chapter five will be up in two days from now, I know, I know, and I
     am sorry, however it is soon to be my birthday and my partner has
     surprised me with a spa weekend so I won't have time to write!
     Please keep the messages coming, I thrive on your feedback, guys,
     leave a review if you feel inclined (keep it respectful!) this is a
     community and I love how we support one another.
     ~ Autumn Lily ~
~ Chapter Four ~
Present Day
Hermione awoke with a weird feeling. The room looked as it always did, her bed
was as fluffy as it was every other morning and grey light was streaming in
from the window above her bed. Christmas was coming closer as it did every
year, and her tummy did a summersault at the idea of yet another year passing
and Voldemort still roaming free in his attempts to create his own twisted
world. She had been procrastinating with her task, it was a horrid task and she
had had to delve into numerous disgusting old books Dumbledore had lent her to
ensure that she understood precisely what they would be soon be facing.
Hermione and Dumbledore were the only ones she knew of who suspected that
Voldemort was potentially not able to be murdered with a spell or a knife or
even a gun. Dumbledore had asked Hermione to accompany him on a walk earlier
that year. Voldemort had already fled to Tasmania with Bellatrix, his
disappearance had not yet been noted by the Ministry nor the community.
Dumbledore had spies outside of the wizarding world, an assortment of goblins,
trolls, giants, and other magical animals plus a handful of Squibs and muggles
who had been let in on the secret world surrounding them. It was one such
muggle detective who had told Dumbledore he had suspected Voldemort’s handiwork
in Australia; a large old mansion where a happy family of four had resided, all
murdered. Doors and windows shut and locked from the inside, a snakeskin left
in the upstairs study by the fireplace. The family had resembled the Riddles
and after investigation Dumbledore had found that they were indeed related –
Voldemort’s blood muggle family had an Australian chapter, a congregation of
Riddle muggles prospering happily in the land down under. Dumbledore was
uncertain how Voldemort had found them but it had made sense that Voldemort
would make sure to stop by to continue purging his name and his history of
anything he found distasteful on his way to Tasmania to meet with the Arctic
Vampires to begin formulating a new plan. Dumbledore had shared this with
Harry, Hermione and Ron who had all been stunned, honored and shocked that they
alone were to know the secrets of the most notorious Dark Wizard of the ages.
The books contained some of the vilest magic Hermione had ever encountered, one
book in particular seemed to be written in blood on pages made of human skin.
Hermione had recoiled at the foul scent of this book and known it was evil
simply by the energy radiating from within and had vowed to cast a protection
spell on herself whenever she had to open it. Dumbledore had shared his secret
with her… a secret that only she, Dumbledore, Harry, Ron and potentially one
other defected Death Eater was aware of… R.A.B whom Hermione had found to be
Regulus Black, Sirius’s younger brother, Voldemort had created Horcruxes. Not
only had he split his soul to create an illusion of immortality, he had
performed this ritual six times on purpose one once by mistake leaving his soul
shredded in eight parts; his diary, a ring, a cup, something of Ravenclaw’s
which they suspected could be the Diadem, the locket, Nagini, Harry and the
fractured fragment left in the recreated vessel of Voldemort. Hermione now
lived with the information that Harry Potter, her best friend, the hero of the
wizarding world, was actually another object containing a fragment of the soul
that was once Tom Marvolo Riddle, an orphaned child who grew up to become to
notorious Lord Voldemort.
Some mornings she could hold herself together. This morning was not one of
them. Her research had been weighing heavily on her, she needed to understand
how they were created and how they could be destroyed and reading into magic of
this calibre, this most ancient of blood rites including murder, bloodletting
and cannibalism was not Hermione’s usual reading material. It made her stomach
churn whenever she thought of it… to think that Voldemort had somehow ingested
a splash of Lily’s blood the night the curse rebounded and shattered his soul,
the murder splitting what remained within him, one part fleeing and one part
latching itself to the only viable candidate in the room… the infant, the boy
who sat helpless in his mother’s limp arms crying out for her to wake up, to
help him, to soothe him… it was more than Hermione could bare. She no longer
cared if the other girls in the dorm could hear her, Hermione was tired of
being strong and having to go through this alone, tired of being the only one
who really understood the current social climate, she was absolutely exhausted
of the image of baby Harry in her mind crying, crying, crying… Hermione rolled
onto her stomach and put her face in her pillow and let out a wail, a gut
wrenching moan which began in her stomach and made its way up to her heart and
out her mouth. She cried loudly, messily and eventually she began to feel
soothed. She wasn’t better, no, nothing but the end of this war could offer her
peace, but she felt as though perhaps she could make it through another day,
face lessons again, laugh with her friends about insignificant topics.
“Granger?” Draco’s voice came through the distance and she felt a pressure on
the bed she was in. It all came flooding back to her – she wasn’t actually in
the Gryffindor girl dorms. She was in the Room of Requirement with Draco
Malfoy… and, was it real? Mr. Tummywhuckles was climbing onto her bed to throw
his arms around her and attempt to fight off her demons as he did when she was
a child.
“Granger, what do you need? I haven’t heard anyone cry like that since… since
my mother lost my brother…”
Hermione looked at Draco, he was sitting on the bed beside her leaning
forwards, elbows on his knees a look of genuine concern shredding his handsome
features as he wrestled with his own internal pain.
“I never knew you had a brother, Malfoy?”
“No one knows. My mother was four months pregnant. She had performed a spell to
determine the sex so we could begin decorating the nursery. She was… not as
young as she was when she had me, her body wasn’t as resilient… Voldemort, he
was incensed when we failed last year… he took it out on my mother… at the end
there was only her pale body and a pool of blood. We did everything we could,
but it was too late. My father didn’t care. He has me to pass on the Malfoy
name.” Malfoy looked down bitterly and scowled at his feet. “In fathers eyes
the new son was only another pawn to place in front of Voldemort, another
faceless Wizard to fight for ‘the cause’. My mother moved into the West Wing
where we usually house guests. She hasn’t spoken much to my father since then.
He thinks she is still mourning and will eventually move through this “womanly
feeling”. This is why she accepted Dumbledore’s offer. She never liked the idea
of fathers to have me join the ranks when he started showing signs of failure.
She argued with him, “Draco is too young, he is too pure, he is our only son!”
She hated him when he wouldn’t relent, wouldn’t bend to her pleading. He
dragged me there, Hermione, I never wanted to go. I admit that in the past I
had my failings as a human, I was – am – conceited and entitled, I was caught
up with the idea of glory, but I never understood what this war meant until I
was branded.” Draco lowered his head as he ripped back his sleeve and for the
first time Hermione saw a Dark Mark up close. It was beautiful in its own way
Voldemort was quite the artist…
Hitler had been an artist, too, was all Hermione could think when she saw the
mark begin to glow from the eyes.
Draco pulled his sleeve back down to cover his brand. Hermione sat up in her
fake bed and scooted forwards to be as close to him as she could without
switching beds. She had learned more about Draco Malfoy in these eleven minutes
than she had throughout their entire schooling history.
“Draco, I am so sorry. I have no idea how it feels to lose a sibling, nor to
have to witness it happening to your mother… I wish, I wish I could do
something to help you.”
He knelt next to her bed and took her hand, thoughts of withdrawing from his
hold didn’t even cross Hermione’s mind as she met his eyes.
“You can. You are. Continue helping me, continue helping Potter. We WILL fight,
Granger and we WILL win. There can be no other way. I have seen inside
Voldemort’s mind – Bellatrix taught me some tricks before she fled, when he
would look into my mind I would look back… the future, the future is murder,
Granger. That’s all he knows. Death and destruction. His followers believe that
he is creating a Pureblood utopia. They have no idea. Once the muggles are gone
the mudbloods and squibs will be next. Then the blood traitors. Then finally it
will only be the twenty eight. He has already begun a process with the vampires
to create a new bloodline from his own heritage using only his magical side. He
has been working on new magic, magic will allow him true immortality he plans
on being turned but taking his magic with him when he transitions which has
never happened before. He will then force the families remaining to mate and
mate and mate, he will create a new race of pure blooded wizards and witches
none of whom will have his powers; the loyal will be turned but not allowed
their magic, the ones who are not turned will die and those remaining will pass
on his legend. He will become a God of the new World Order. We can’t let this
happen.”
Hermione’s stomach churned once more. She remembered some of the magical
rituals she had read in the blood and skin book and a specific passage came to
mind…
“Omnes Immortalales…”
“Pardon, Granger? We're not all fluent in muggle”
“It's Latin Malfoy, it roughly translates to “Immortal beyond all” – that’s
what the spell must be for! We have to go, we have to tell Dumbledore!”
Hermione was up and dressing in a flash, she was so distracted by her whirring
thoughts and the familiarity of the Gryffindor girls room around them that she
didn’t think twice about changing in front of Draco who stared wide eyed as she
ripped off her dressing gown revealing a pair of bloomers, a white singlet and
pink bra straps poking out from beneath. She riffled through the fake chest at
the bottom of her bed and withdrew her warmest robes, socks, scarf and gloves.
She eyed Draco impatiently who stared back.
“Granger, I don’t know what you are talking about nor what we will be
discussing with Dumbledore but there is no way in Hades I am putting on a
Gryffindor robe. I am content with my slept-in smelly slytherin robes, thank
you.”
Hermione offered him a small smirk before shoving her bear into her robe
pocket, grabbing Draco’s hand and dragging him from the dorms. They emerged
from the Room of Requirement holding hands and she quickly began leading him
towards Dumbledore’s office.
“Granger.” Draco hissed. “Granger, STOP!” She halted and gave him an impatient
stare.
“What, Malfoy?” Hermione questioned him with a look of frustration.
“I understand you were rushing however we cannot be seen holding hands walking
around Hogwarts together. You are a smart witch, you understand how that will
be interpreted.”
He withdrew his hand from her tightly clenched fingers and proceeded to walk at
a quick pace towards the statue hiding the revolving staircase.
“Ariana!” Hermione whispered and the guard jumped aside allowing access. Draco
looked at her sideways.
“I thought it was always sweets?”
“This is the emergency password. It is only to be used when there is something
important to discuss regarding the overall mission. It alerts Dumbledore, he’ll
be in his office within thirty seconds if he is not here already.” Hermione
then ran up the last few steps not waiting for Draco to catch up.
When he entered the headmasters office Hermione was pacing back and forth in
front of the pensieve muttering to herself. Draco took a seat in front of
Dumbledore’s desk and crossed his left leg over his right knee. He folded his
hands and started at the image of his great relative who was apparently fast
asleep in his portrait.
“And of course it makes sense, only someone as vile as Voldemort would consider
it a viable option… genocide, though, why hadn’t we considered this a potential
reality?”
“Care to share, Granger?”
“I will as soon as Dumbledore arrives, I don’t wish to explain twice. You’ll
have to catch up quickly, Malfoy there may be discussion regarding things you
are not privy to, things you may not wish to hear regarding your old Master.”
“The Dark Lord was NEVER truly my Master, Granger.”
“I’m speaking of you father, Malfoy. I wish to apologise in advance for
anything you hear during this conversation, just know it is all true and that
it will help keep your mother safe.”
Draco felt his right eye twitch as he sat with a falsely impassive posture
silently cursing the headmaster for not having arrived immediately. The seconds
ticked by and the seconds turned into minutes. Hermione continued pacing
looking nervously from the window to the fireplace to the doorway. Draco sat
still, he knew how to hold his nerves inside. He was concentrating on
Hermione’s last words… I’m speaking of your father, Malfoy… just know it is all
true… it will help keep your mother safe…
The light outside the window began steadily rising and the grey gave way to a
weak streams of sun as the clock continued ticking over. Hermione was wringing
her hands and finally she could stay silent no longer.
“Where IS Dumbledore?”
As if on cue the fireplace lit up and the tall and handsome figure of Kingsley
Shacklebolt appeared stepping out of the frame onto the carpet dusting off his
robes.
“Miss Granger, we need Minerva immediately. Mr. Malfoy fetch your mother.”
“Kingsley? What - ”
“Go, Granger, and if you can find Potter and Weasley bring them here, too.
Hurry, both of you.”
Draco looked towards Hermione and opened his mouth but she spoke over his
silent words.
“You heard Kingsley, Malfoy, let’s go.” For the second time that day Hermione
took Draco by the hand and led him from the room. They descended the stairs
quietly and didn’t let go of each other’s hand until they stepped into hallway
below.
“I have to go to the Room of Requirement to use the untraceable fireplace to
contact my mother… I, I can come with you to find Potter and Weasel and
McGonngal if you need me to.”
“We’ll be faster if we split up.”
Draco nodded but hesitated before moving.
“Granger…”
“I know, Draco… I know…”
Neither wanted to finish the sentence aloud.
Dumbledore was nowhere to be found in the castle, the emergency password had
not sent him back to his office and Shacklebolt had appeared within the school
asking for the main resistance fighters. Dumbledore had either been captured –
or killed.
***
~ Godric’s Hollow, many years earlier ~
“He can’t stay here, Albus! You don’t see what I see! He is pure evil, a snake
in lions clothes! He detests Ariana and he bullies me.”
“Aberforth, please, Gellert is simply set in his ways, things are different at
Dumstrang, he has … alternative customes and beliefs back in his home country.”
“His home country? His home dimension! A demon in form of a man!”
“ABERFORTH, ENOUGH!” Albus’s voice rose quickly and thundered deeply through
the room. His eyes were on fire and his wand was pointed directly at his
brother’s face.
“You wouldn’t Albus! You wouldn’t curse your own brother to defend a monster…”
Aberforth’s face was not as confident as his words and his eyes were focused on
the tip of Dumbledore’s wand which was emitting small sparks out of emotional
frustration.
“Don’t make me, Aberforth, just leave it alone, now. Leave me alone, leave
Gellert be!”
“I can’t Albus! Not when he treats Ariana and I so!”
“Ariana!” Dumbledore called through the house. The brothers stared into each
other’s angry twisted faces as their younger sister pranced slowly into the
room, a ballerina in slow motion, delicate and fragile yet blossoming with
optimism and joy.
“Alby!” She walked between the brothers without seeing their contorted features
or raised wands and wound her arms around Albus.
“Alby, I dreamt of mama last night, you were there again, and the goats and the
butterflies and the wrackspurts… I could fly, Alby, and I was floating over a
rainbow of flowers which turned into snakes with Gelly’s beautiful eyes, and I
could see everything through his eyes and I was a snake and I a winged seal but
I was most of all a cloud raining down on everything!” Albus ran his long
fingers through his sister’s hair without taking his eyes off his brother.
“Ariana, our brother tells me Gellert has been rude to you. Please describe his
behaviour to me.”
“Oh Albus, it was awful! HE took my flowers from me and he grew them and he
they were too big to give to the fairies in the garden and then I dropped one
and the petals fell off and it made me cry… but then Aberforth left to find me
new roses and Gellert took my tears in a vial and he told me that I was the
secret to everything, Alby! What secret am I, Alby? I’m no longer Mumm’s
secret, am I mystery, Alby? Am I a ghost, an apparition, a hazy figure in the
foggy light of new morning?”
Ariana unwound herself from her brother and walked towards the window.
“I can feel him, Alby, he will be here soon.” She sank to her knees and stared
out of the window without blinking.
“He? Ariana? Gellert?” Aberforth’s voice was shaking.
“I can feel him, Abby, he will be here soon. I can feel him. He is inside me.”
“Ariana, what do you mean by that, he is inside you?”
At that moment the front door reverberated with the loud sound of a fist
hammering on the wood. The three siblings looked between each other and then
Ariana fainted. Aberforth threw down his wand and pushed Albus out of the way
as he ran to his sister.
“Ariana! Albus, help me!”
“Alby! Let me in good fellow! I’ll catch my death out here!”
“Albus, no, please, no, please. help me - help HER!” Aberforth implored his
brother.
Albus looked between the door and the young girl on the floor before pointing
his wand at his sister and levitating her towards her bed in the next room.
Aberforth went with Ariana and shut the door behind them. Albus walked to the
front entrance and stood behind the closed door, he leaned forward with his
forehead against the wood and sighed deeply with his eyes closed. His brother
was right. He could deny it no longer. He loved a man who had a monster within
him.
“Albus! I can feel you there, you are within me. Open the door and allow me
entry my love!”
Ariana’s words were floating through Albus’s mind… he will be here soon. I can
feel him. He is inside me. How could she feel him? How could she know? She was
a child, an innocent… what had Gellert done to Ariana?
***** Plots and Potions *****
Chapter Five
~ Present Day ~
Hermione and Draco were standing in Dumbledore’s office along with Minerva
McGonnagal, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Narcissa Malfoy and Kingsley
Shacklebolt. They were all staring the fireplace awaiting the arrival of Lupin
and Tonks, Fred, George, BIll, Fluer, Arthur and Molly Weasley, Deddalus Diggle
and Arabella Figg. Kingsley had not said a word since sending out his Patronus
to the members of the order he knew would be able to come without hesitation.
There were other members who were still on missions, some were keeping up
appearances within the ministry, some were on voyages like Hagrid, and others
were splinter cells, members whom no one knew of aside from Dumbledore himself,
to keep the resistance going and to prevent all names being spilled in case of
capture and torture.
One by one the additional members of the Order stepped out of the fireplace,
and Slughorn, Flitwick and Pomfrey entered the Headmasters office via the
doorway. When the fireplace had finally calmed and Bill, the last one to step
foot inside, had brushed the dust off his robes, Kingsley rose from his chair
and stood before the group.
“Dumbledore is missing. We cannot yet confirm whether he has been killed,
captured or injured on his mission. Fawkes is gone. We have no means of
communicating with either. The Patronus I sent to them failed. I have
instructions from Dumbledore for this precise situation, he seemed to
understand there may come a day when we could no longer rely on him being here
in person. There is an envelope for each of you, and more for the other
members. I now hold the names of all Order members. I am now in charge until
the return of Dumbledore. Mrs. Malfoy, please, step forwards…”
Narcissa moved towards Kingsley and outstretched a shaking hand. Her long nails
gleamed under the sun shining through the window, a bright contrast to dreary
news. She withdrew back to the position to her son’s right and then Kingsley
called Draco forward. One by one they all heard their name, stepped forward and
received their letters until each were standing holding a large white envelope
bearing the Hogwarts crest.
“We are to open them separately, and when we are alone.” Kingsley expressed.
Malfoy caught Hermione’s eye and raised an eyebrow. She raised one back and
moved towards him. “Apparently there is in information in each envelope
pertaining to the overall mission and Dumbledore has left instructions to each
of us. No one is to know Dumbledore is missing. It will cause upheaval and
chaos, there is enough of that within the magical community already. We must
maintain the illusion that all is as well as it was yesterday. We will soon be
introducing some of the lesser known Order members to the core group. It is
almost time for us to congregate and begin the revolt -”
“No!” Hermione’s startled cry shocked everyone in the room as Kingsley’s eyes
slowly turned to the bushy haired young woman breathing heavily.
“Miss Granger?”
“I mean, we can’t yet… Kingsley, I mean no disrespect but the task Dumbledore
set me… I had a break through this morning which possibly changes everything we
thought we knew about Voldermort’s future plans.”
Kingsley eyed Hermione, his face impassive but his eyes focused. Without taking
his eyes from hers he motioned to the others in the room. “Everyone except
Minerva, Potter, Weasley – Ron -, Draco and Hermione may leave.”
Narcissa stepped forwards.
“I won’t be leaving without my son. If he stays so do I.”
Molly and Arthur stepped forwards followed by Fred, George, Bill and Fluer.
“If Ron stays so do we.” Said Arthur, echoed by his clan.
“No. Nacrissa may stay. Arthur, choose one of your family members to stay.” His
eyes swept the rest of the group. “You all know what you need to be doing. Do
not procrastinate. You will be informed in due time.”
Molly looked up at Arthur, “You stay, Arthur, I’ll take the kids home and - ”
“Mum, we’re adults now, you can’t - ” began Fred and George together.
“You be quiet! How can you be trusted to fight for the survival of the
Wizarding World if you cannot even go five minutes without interrupting your
mother! Get in the fireplace and go home immediately, we Weasley’s will be
opening our letters together!”
Molly’s eyes passed over each of her children present including Fluer who
shrank back under Molly’s “mother” gaze. She turned to Lupin and Tonks. “I
expect you both to be at my dinner table this evening, too.” With that Molly
strode to the fireplace threw in a handful of the green powder and disappeared.
The others followed until finally only McGonagall, Harry, Ron, Draco, Arthur,
Narcissa, Kingsley and Hermione remained.
“Miss Granger. You believe you have worthwhile information? Please, elaborate.”
Kingsley stood behind Dumbledore’s desk and pulled out the headmasters chair
indicating towards McGonagall to sit. McGonagall hesitated a brief second
before situating herself in the high backed wooden frame that once held
Dumbledore. Kingsley pointed his wand at Narcissa and a plump chair appeared
behind her. She inclined her head in a small bow of thanks before sitting
herself delicately on the edge of the cushion and turning to face her son.
Hermione took a deep breath. She knew this wasn’t going to be easy.
“I don’t understand the entire situation, yet. Dumbledore himself had some
ideas however further research was required… research which Draco was actually
able to help me with this morning.” Ron and Harry exchanged disbelieving looks.
They had both heard, from Susan Bones, that Hermione had been seen fleeing the
Room of Requirement extremely early that morning holding the hand of Draco
Malfoy. Neither had had time to digest this information for mere moments later
they had been asked to visit the Headmasters office by none other than Hermione
herself who seemed ruffled. Now, hearing that Hermione HAD been with Draco
earlier that morning put some pieces of a small social puzzle together for
Hermione had not been seen in the common rooms last night. Harry shook his head
and Ron stared daggers at Malfoy.
“I uh, I am uncertain who has been given information regarding the task I was
set?”
Kingsley offered Hermione a small smile. “Child, everyone here is aware, that
is why these people were allowed to stay.” Kinglsey turned to Narcissa, Arthur
and Minerva. “You all know Dumbledore suspects Voldemort created Horcuxes,
yes?” Minerva paled and nodded, Narcissa’s face twisted into a look of disgust
and she, too nodded. Arthur wrinkled his forehead and muttered “I feel I missed
something at one of the meetings?”
“Mr. Weasley, a Horcrux is a magical object created through malicious means in
which one places and guards a fragment of their soul after committing murder to
fracture the entire soul into pieces. It creates an illusion of immortality as
the person creating the Horcruxes cannot be destroyed until each Horcrux is
destroyed and with it, every fragment of the soul."
“Blimey!” interrupted Arthur who was wiping nervous sweat off his head as
Hermione continued.
Hermione turned to face the group. “My task was to research the rituals used to
create a Horcrux, and find out how, precisely, we can destroy them. So far I
understand that the object holding the fragmented soul MUST be destroyed beyond
repair using magical means. One cannot simply crush, stab or smash the Horcux
as it is protected by evil magic; it must be destroyed by something that has
little or no antidotes. We found, through Harry’s destruction of the diary,
that Basilisk poison works well as there is only one known cure – Phoenix
tears”
“Phoenix tears” said Harry at the same time as Hermione.
“I also found the ritual which outlines how one creates a Horcrux. It is most
deplorable, it is foul and evil magic… to split the soul one must commit murder
of a human being. One must then perform a … a physical procedure on the self
and on the corpse before… before, oh Merlin, Voldemort had to perform a blood
letting curse, and then he must ingest parts of his victims to tether his
fragmented soul to something outside his body to allow him to use magic to rip
it from his remaining soul and impart it into the object! Voldemort is a
cannibal!”
Minerva’s eyes closed and her mouth compressed into a line so thin her lips
were almost invisible. Narcissa’s face became a sickly green and she turned
from the group to look into the corner of the office, her chest heaving as
though she were attempting to keep the bile within. Arthur was staring at
Hermione, bewilder across his face, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing as
though he had a million questions he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Ron and
Draco looked equally worried at their parent’s reactions and neither had
noticed Harry as he stepped forward.
Kingsley’s expression was still impassive, he wasn’t here to judge, he was here
to lead and he had to keep the momentum of this meeting flowing quickly as
there was much to do, however after seeing Potter’s face Kingsley understood
where the boys mind was.
“Harry, ask your question though she may not know…” Kingsley murmured as
Minerva turned back towards Hermione and Narcissa attempted to hold herself
together.
“Harry… Oh Harry, I’m so so sorry…”
“It’s true then? That’s how I can speak to snakes? That’s how I can see into
his mind, and him into mine?”
“Huh?” Came Ron’s grunt. His father shushed him.
“Yes, Harry… the night he murdered your parents… the spell ricocheted as your
mother sacrificed herself to protected you… the spell hit Voldemort and his
soul, already fractured, split again…the spell, when it hit Voldemort, it
blasted his body to pieces and so he blood let inadvertently... I, we,
Dumbledore and I believe – and this is purely speculation, Harry – that either
your father’s or mother’s blood must have inadvertently flown into his mouth
for that’s the only way for you… for it…
“For me to have become a Horcrux.” Harry looked at his best friends and then
down at his feet. “But neither of them were murdered with violence!” Harry
protested, “both were killed with the killing curse! It leaves no marks!”
“That’s true, Harry, but Snape, Hagrid and Sirius all visited Godric’s Hollow
afterwards… they said then when James fell his head hit the banister and was
cracked open… and your mother… it, it’s definitely possible that a droplet of
blood from either of them - ”
“No! No, Voldemort DID NOT EAT MY PARENTS!”
“Harry! We’re not saying he did! Just that a spatter may have crossed his path,
if he had swallowed, well, Harry, if he hadn’t you wouldn’t have set the Boa
free would have you?” Hermione stared into her friends face willing him to
understand that this changed nothing between them, that Harry was still just
Harry and she was simply researching and piecing a puzzle together, Harry,
however, seemed to be taking this information as personal slight against him
and his family. He turned from Hermione and feigned deep interest in a small
spindly object on Dumbledore’s desk.
“Potter, you can discuss this more with myself and Miss Granger later if you
have further questions. Miss Granger, you mentioned a new development? Whilst
the information regarding the Horcruxes is imperative it is not unknown…
please, proceed.”
Hermione nodded at Kingsley, her eyes still on her friend who was hurting.
“This morning Draco and I were talking about - ”
Hermione felt an almost non-existent pressure on her foot and looked down and
up in the space of a heartbeat to see Draco’s foot moving away from hers. She
understood he didn’t want her sharing about his mother’s ordeal so she quickly
rearranged the information in her mind and continued without anyone realizing
she had missed a beat.
“About a plan Draco saw within Voldemort’s mind when Draco was using reverse
legilimens on Voldemort one evening.”
Kingsley and Minerva looked at Draco impressed and Arthur widened his eyes.
Narcissa was already aware of the information as her son had shared it with her
immediately and so sat looking at her son impassively.
“The picture that Draco formed from the thoughts whirring in Voldemort’s mind
is that he not only wishes to become immortal, he wishes to create a new
mutation of magic; he is working with Vampires to create a blood spell which
will allow Voldemort to be turned but to retain his magical Wizarding abilities
after the transition as well as gain the new Vampiric powers.”
“This is grave news, indeed.” Kingsley’s deep voice pierced through the silent
room.
“That’s not all, Kingsley. Voldemort plans on murdering all the muggles, the
squibs, the mudbloods and purging the bloodlines until only the pure twenty
eight remain. Then he will hand select a small number of his most devoted and
loyal servants to transform into Vampires – they will not retain their magic
however they will be blood-bound to Voldemort offering him more control over
their actions, thoughts and feelings. He will be forcing the twenty eight to
mate continuously and he will be killing off the elders and raising the young
to see the world from his perception. As the bloodlines continue breeding and
he keeps killing off the elders only stories will remain of this world, the one
we live in now… he wishes to oppress this world and create a completely new
World Order. Eventually Voldemort will be seen as a God.”
The room was completely silent. Every set of eyes were upon Hermione and Draco,
both of whom were attempting to keep a straight face rather than allowing their
features to collapse into worry.
“Oh Dear Morgana,” whispered Minerva. “The both of you, you’re positive?”
“They are, Minerva.” Narcissa spoke. “Draco came to me directly after viewing
this. This is … one... of the reasons we accepted Dumbledore’s offer. The Order
and the Malfoy's may not see eye to eye on everything however neither my son
nor I wish to see the world we live in completely destroyed, nor do we wish for
our friends and family to be forced into a life of sexual exploitation and,
most of all, we cannot allow him to continue murdering our children!”
Arthur looked at Narcissa suspiciously. “Mrs. Malfoy, excuse me, but I believe
I am the only parent here who has nearly lost children to Voldemort. I am
thankful for your knowledge and assistance to the Order, however I must point
out your son stands here, before us, healthy, if shaken but most certainly
alive.”
“Draco is not my only child!” Narcissa hissed venomously at Arthur who withdrew
from her wide eyes and beared teeth. “Voldemort is a MONSTER, he tortures his
own followers, he uses our families against us, he murders without remorse - he
took my child from me before he had even taken his first breath…” Narcissa
folded in on herself and Draco moved to his mother’s side staring heinously at
Arthur who began stuttering apologies.
“Narcissa… I am so very sorry, we had no idea that Voldemort was… well, we did,
however we never believed he would enact this upon his own inner circle.”
Minerva waved her wand and a box appeared in her hand which she offered to
Narcissa. “Here, have a biscuit.”
Narcissa raised an eyebrow but then saw her favourite caramel filled choc
glazed cookie and reached out, bringing to her mouth and biting into the sugary
comfort.
“That’s why Hermione was so adamant we could trust Draco!” Harry exclaimed as
though he had discovered the twelve uses of Dragon’s Blood. “The other night,
we were talking about her studying with Malfoy and she was positive we could
trust the Malfoy’s. We should have never doubted her, hey, Ron?”
Ron looked Draco up and down and shook his head imperceptibly. Ron’s eyes then
moved to Narcissa who was chewing delicately with tears dripping down her
beautiful face. Ron felt touched. He moved towards Narcissa and offered her
another biscuit from the box on the desk. Draco eyed Hermione suspiciously, he
had only divulged this information that morning yet Hermione had trusted him
for days?
“My mum makes the best choc fudge brownies this side of France, Mrs. Malfoy.
She knows what it’s like to have her kids stare Voldemort in the face. I’m sure
she’d be happy to talk to you, if you, you know, need someone to talk to… I
just, I don’t mean you can’t talk to your husband, but well, you can’t can you?
Otherwise you probably wouldn’t be here.”
Narcissa’s eyes were wide in disbelief at the red headed blood traitor in front
of her offering his own version of comfort and love. She had rarely received
such support from her actual family so to experience such an overwhelming
response from people she had once considered enemies was completely foreign.
Her eyes flicked to Arthur who nodded to show he agreed with his sons offer.
“Thank you, uh, Ronald. I think it may do me a world of good to visit your
mother. She has obviously raised some very kind and well-mannered children.”
Ron blushed fiercely and went back to stand by Harry looking at his feet in an
effort to hide his burning cheeks.
“If we may all please bring our attention back to the matter at hand…”
Kingsley’s smooth, deep voice calmly commanded everyone’s attention. “Miss
Granger is correct in her assertion that we cannot yet make our move, not with
this additional information. We will need to move soon but first we will need
to complete the task Slughorn set for Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy – how is the
potion coming along?”
“We will be checking it this evening, Kingsley.” Hermione responded.
“And Granger will braid her hair before we do so.” Laughed Draco causing both
Harry and Ron to look questioningly at Hermione who was half-heartedly swatting
Draco’s shoulder.
“We will also need to find out where Dumbledore is. Lupin, Tonks, Bill,
Deddalus and a handful of others have been selected as the find and retrieve
team for Dumbeldore. We need to research this magic mutation which may allow
Voldemort to transition into Vampirism and retain his magic… this cannot be
allowed to occur. Miss Granger, I am aware Dumbledore has asked a lot of you
already however this type of research is - ”
“Of course I’ll do it!” Hermione exclaimed.
“Mr. Malfoy can assist you, he is a bright young man and one of few who know
this plot. Potter, Weasley, the two of you will assist Miss Granger and Mr.
Malfoy in any way they require, be it checking on the potion, referencing books
or menial tasks.”
“Kingsley, no offense to Weasley and Potter, but Granger and I work well
together because we’re both… how do I phrase this nicely… we’re not dim witted
brawny baboons.”
Ron stepped forwards and Harry opened his mouth but Kingsley hushed both before
turning back to Draco. “In times of war we must rely on those we once never
trusted. You will use Potter and Weasley if need arises, Mr. Malfoy, and you
will graciously accept their assistance. They, in turn, will not turn their
heads at your requests. We all must put aside squabbles and differences as this
war is only beginning. We have won many battles but there is still a long way
to go before we can sit in peace.”
Draco, Harry and Ron looked between each other and finally, sighing, nodded
their acceptance of Kingsley’s short speech. They all knew he was correct. The
group disbanded shortly after. Kingsley had to get back to the Ministry with
Arthur, Narcissa had Death Eater’s to question, Minerva had a class to teach
and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco were left standing in the hall outside the
entrance to the headmasters office awkwardly avoiding each other’s eyes.
“Come on, Hermione, let’s get back to the common rooms.”
“Come on, Hermione, we should talk to Slughorn about the potion if it’s time to
check it tonight.”
Malfoy and Harry spoke at the same time and Hermione looked between the two
bemused.
“Malfoy, can you please check with Slughorn? I’ll meet you there this evening.
I need to shower and change and then I have classes to get to. Harry, Ron, I’ll
walk up with you but will be headed to the Prefects bathroom immediately as I
didn’t have time to bathe last night.”
Draco didn’t wish to hang around Potter or Weasley any longer so nodded and
waved at Hermione without smiling and proceeding down to Slughorns office to
make certain that they should only add the extra unicorn hair if the potion had
turned silver.
Hermione, Harry and Ron began the incline to Gryffindor tower in silence.
Finally Harry turned to Hermione. “Where were you last night?”
“I was helping Malfoy study.”
“You weren’t in the common room when we got back. We won, by the way.”
“Of course you did, Harry, you were the youngest seeker in a century, you have
seeking in your blood and you’ve put together a wonderful team.”
“Where were you, Hermione? You missed curfew… Ginny told us that none of the
girls spotted you upstairs, so I know you hadn’t gone to bed early.”
“Lay off her, mate.” Interjected Ron who was looking uncomfortable. Ron had a
feeling he knew where Hermione had been and he felt it was his fault for
pushing her into the arms of Malfoy after pushing himself on to her in the
common room.
“It’s really none of your business, Harry.”
“I think it is, Hermione. It’s one thing to be helping him study, another to
assist him with tasks set by the Order… but sleeping with Draco Malfoy?
Hermione… I guess I thought better of you.”
“Mate, that’s enough…” Ron tried to push between Harry but Hermione shoved him
off to the side.
“Harry James Potter, how DARE you! After everything we’ve been through
together, after all the support I have given you, after I have done nothing but
encourage you, help you, love you, you throw this in my face without even
knowing the details!” Hermione’s eyes were shiny with tears. “I haven’t slept
with ANYONE, and guess what Harry Potter, when I do I sure won’t be telling you
now that I know what you think of me…”
“Hermione, I only meant - ”
“It was perfectly clear what you meant. You thought Malfoy had used his charms
on me and that I had just been simply overcome with passion rather than up past
curfew studying and wanting to help the fight against Voldemort. For your
information I was chasing you and the crowd to the common rooms, Harry, I
called out to you and my cries went unnoticed. I suppose listening out for your
friends doesn’t compare to the accolades of winning a stupid sporting match!”
With that Hermione turned and ran directly to the prefect’s bathroom without
bothering to finish the climb to the Gryffindor dorms to collect her clothes.
She was capable of conjuring up new robes and she needed to remove herself from
Harry’s presence immediately. She was hurt that he thought that of her… not
that it was such a big assumption, she HAD spent the evening with Malfoy, just
not in the way Harry thought. And if she had, well it would have been none of
Harry’s business unless she chose to share. Ron at least had kept his mouth
shut and not attempted to jeer her on her evenings whereabouts but Hermione
felt Ron’s silence was more so to do with the kiss than any respect he had for
her privacy or romantic life. Hermione couldn’t not help but spill some tears
and by the time she got to the Prefects bathroom and closed the door behind her
she was sinking to the floor for the second time in so many hours folding in on
herself and hugging her torso as she cried bitterly. She knew war changed
people but she didn’t realise the deep impact it could have on the day to day
interactions of those under such pressure and stress.
“Granger?” Malfoy’s voice echoed through the room and Hermione lifted her head
in shock.
“Malfoy! I thought you were checking with Slughorn!”
“I ran into him as he was heading to the forest to collect some ingredients, it
only took a minute. I raced up here to use the bathroom before you did… I
thought you’d be gone at least a half hour what with the climb up, the
chatting, the sorting of clothing and then the walk back down.”
“I uh, I left Ron and Harry on the third floor.”
“Why so?” Draco drawled as he swam forwards in the rub to lean on the edge in
front of Hermione. She averted her eyes and Draco laughed.
“If you leave your underthings on you can get in and talk to me. I’ll stay over
this side. Accio briefs!” Draco’s briefs went flying past Hermione and landed
in the water next to Draco. He dived under and came back up smiling. Hermione
smiled. The water looked bubbly, the steam told her it was warm, and it was
definitely big enough for two. Plus she really did need to bathe, she didn’t
like the idea of wasting water, she had already spent an entire night alone
with Draco and he hadn’t touched her, plus he was right, she could simply leave
her bra and panties on.
“Malfoy, look over there while I undress.”
Draco turned and listened as he heard the rustle of garments being unfastened
and dropped to the floor. He felt the water move and then a minute later
Hermione was doing laps on the opposite side of the long bath.
“This really is lovely.” Hermione sighed, content and warm, her body was
beginning to relax and she was able, for the first time since Draco’s
disclosure that morning, to find some peace in her mind.
Draco began swimming parallel to Hermione, he kept on his side of the bath as
he had promised he would, and together they completed five, ten, fifteen laps
before each slinking into an opposite corner and looking at each other across
the bubbles. Hermione felt herself flush when Draco’s eyes lowered, and
although she knew he couldn’t see her clearly though the bubbles, water and
undergarments, she felt exposed yet comfortable.
Draco, noticing her flushing cheeks drew his gaze back up slowly.
“Granger, you’re rather pretty for a … you’re rather pretty.” He stopped
himself from using the word and Hermione noticed. She smiled at him.
“Malfoy, why are you being so nice to me?”
“I’m nice to most pretty girls, Granger.”
“You know what I mean, Malfoy. Your condescension levels have decreased, you no
longer pick fights with me, you’ve held true to your promise to not use the
word, you’re being helpful and sure, you still dislike Ron and Harry however
even your taunts to them have decreased in intensity, you’re no longer vile,
you're just... simply obnoxious.”
“What a compliment! ‘Simply Obnoxious!’ Granger, I’m going to get a banner
made, I’m going to start a new Hogwarts house and our motto will be “nomine
obnoxia, obnoxia per ipsum” and our house animal will be a peacock, the most
obnoxious of all the birds.”
Hermione laughed aloud, “Obnoxious by name, obnoxious by game, nice motto,
Malfoy, you’re incorrigible! Really, though, these changes started before you
asked me to tutor you. You stopped speaking out so much in classes, you’ve kept
up your Slytherin charade well but I saw you helping a first year girl at the
start of year when another boy pushed her bag out of her hands and all her
books spilled. Is it because of what happened to your mother? Or were you
having reservations before then?”
“Granger, these are really personal questions. I feel I’ve disclosed enough for
one day, if you don’t mind. How am I supposed to stay mysterious if I keep
spilling my innermost secrets?” He swam closer to her, careful not to invade
her personal space, but definitely moving out of his own half of the pool. He
kept his eyes on hers as he circled her as she moved forwards from the corner
she was leaning against. She moved into the center of the bath and ducked under
and came back up pushing her hair out of her face.
“If you’re not going to talk then you can help; I need to wash my hair,
condition and rinse, we need to get dressed soon and get to classes, then we
have dinner, then we need to meet in Slughorns office at precisely 9pm.”
Draco swam to the edge and pulled the level on a large tap which flowed pink
bubbles down into his waiting hands. He turned it off then, holding the pink
goo above the water, waded back to Hermione. She indicated at her head,
surprised Draco began applying the shampoo as he responded.
“Technically no, Granger, I have only one class today and then I have to have
dinner with the “Slytherin Select”, a group of the Death Eaters inner circles
kids where we order around the house elves, drink too much and pride ourselves
on what malicious things our parents did this week and how much money we can
spend on unnecessary items.” Draco’s voice was bitter. “I have to keep up the
charade.” Draco was silent a moment as he lathered the bubbles in Hermione’s
hair. It was longer than he’d thought, while it was wet it wasn’t bushy and
hung perfectly straight down her back covering the light blue bra strap
underneath her shining tendrils. He told her to hold her breath and ducked her
under moving his fingers through to remove the shampoo then pulling her up and
pressing his finger to the top of her forehead and pushing the excess water
back away from her face, down her head and behind her ears so it wouldn’t go in
her eyes.
Draco’s mother had washed his hair like that until he was seven and his father
had ordered Narcissa to stop spoiling the boy. Draco swam to the edge,
retrieved some conditioner and came back to Hermione. Without waiting for her
instructions he applied it to the tips and massaged it in gently, his nails
scratching her scalp in a delicious frenzy as he attempted to give moisture to
her frizz to allow her hair some down time rather than being the wavy bush it
always had been.
“Well please don’t stay too late, if you can help it. We need to get to the
dungeons.”
“Slughorn allowed me to move the potion to the Room of Requirement. He knows I
have a secret study and he agreed with me it would better to keep a potion of
this caliber hidden, specifically so that no student finds it by accident and
attempts to experiment with it. We need it perfect.”
“Draco, I’m impressed. I was going to suggest moving it however was uncertain
where we would put it.” Hermione smiled at him over her shoulder and Draco felt
a flutter in his stomach.
“Right, well that should do it. Rinse it off and get ready for your classes.
I’ll head out not so you don’t need to be hide yourself.”
Without waiting for her response Draco had swum to the baths edge, lifted
himself out and begun towel drying himself as he sauntered to the door. He
turned and waved and saw Hermione staring at him with a puzzled expression.
“See you this evening, Granger.”
“Bye, Malfoy.” She responded as he slipped his robes over his head and shut the
door behind him.
 
~ Godric's Hollow, Many Years Earlier ~
"I'm sorry, Gellert, you'll have to come back tomorrow. Ariana is unwell and I
need to assist her."
"Open up, Alby, it's only me, Ariana dotes on me, she says I have 'beautiful
eyes'".
Dumbledore closed his eyes and sighed. Getting Gellert to leave would not be
easy, specifically as Gellert would know Albus didn't want him to go.
"We're having some family time, Gellert, I'm moving away from the door now to
go to my sister. I'll see you in the morning."
"No! Albus! Open up! I have news! I have a discovery! I believe I have located
one of the ..." Gellerts voice dropped in volume as he continued, "one of the
three objects we have been looking for! I came straight here to share with you,
Alby, my friend, my love, my twin, please open up and let me in!"
"Tomorrow, Gellert. Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow will be a dark day if you keep this door closed, Dumbledore!"
Albus took note of the change of endearment... he had, in one swift sentence,
gone from 'Alby, my friend, my love, my twin" to "Dumbledore". Gellert reverted
to formalities when angry and having the door remain closed when he was
pleading for entrance made Gellert angrier than he had been since he had begun
his visit here.
"Tomorrow, Gellert. Come back tomorrow." Abus pointed his wand at the door and
the sounds of Gellerts voice was muffled as Albus walked into the side room to
check on Ariana.
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